Down the Rabbit Hole
by Accusatrix
Summary: Dark Harry/Ginny AU. "The rabbit hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down." Harry and Ginny find their world tumbling down around them. Mature content and dark themes.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.

_**A/N: **__This story is one that I've been thinking about for awhile. It's far different from what I've posted before. As such, it really does need a disclaimer. This is going to be an AU dark story. Can it be considered Dark!Harry/Dark!Ginny? Perhaps. Regardless of whether people think it qualifies as d!H/d!G, the story itself will be very dark. In all ways. There will be violence, bad language, sexual content, death, mayhem, and just all-around general badness. But… there will always be a light, however small, at the end of the tunnel. Harry and Ginny just have to find their way there._

**Prologue**

_June 7, 1992_

_Hogwarts Infirmary_

A light breeze fluttered the curtains that covered a partially opened window in the Hogwarts infirmary. As Madame Pomfrey made her way over to close it against the afternoon winds, a small black beetle crawled over the windowsill and down the brick walls, scuttling in the shadows under the empty beds.

One bed in the infirmary was occupied. Harry Potter's dark hair lay stark against the white hospital linens, piles of candy and sweets almost toppling over on the bedside table next to him. As the small beetle was crawling across the floor beneath the beds, drawing ever closer to the one occupied, the voice of Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, could be heard speaking to the injured boy.

"…not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies."

Harry nodded his head, but stopped quickly, grimacing at the pain of moving too vigorously. Then he continued, "But sir, how did Quirrell die? And why couldn't he touch me?"

A chair squeaking loudly in the hospital matron's office cut through Dumbledore's answer, and the beetle continued to crawl closer, heading towards a blanket laying over the end of the bed and trailing onto the floor.

"…It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition--" By the end of the first sentence, the beetle had made its way to the top of the blanket, and was crawling up under the blankets, the man's words muffled by the thick wool and linen.

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something." The young boy in the bed continued to listen to his headmaster speak, and casually brushed his hands against the blankets to help push himself further upright. As he did, he knocked the beetle to the floor, where it bounced and rolled under the bedside table.

A short time later, a slightly stunned, yet still alive beetle crawled slowly out from underneath the table, following along behind the shuffling gait of the white-haired Headmaster as he walked out the doors of the infirmary.

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_Monday June 8, 1992_

_**Death of a Hogwarts Professor!**_

_**Boy-Who-Lived or Boy-Who-Kills?**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Quirinus Quirrell, formerly the Muggle Studies professor, and this past year's__ Defense__ Against the Dark Arts professor, was found dead last Thursday, after what appears to be a vicious battle involving fire. But how could this have happened at the school where many of our children go to learn and better themselves?_

_Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, has always been seen by the__ Wizarding__ world as our supposed__ savior__ ever since his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was just an infant. However, the _Daily Prophet_ has uncovered frightful happenings at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry surrounding Mr. Potter and Professor__ Quirrell's__ death._

_Through careful investigation, it has been found that Harry Potter, age 11, was the last to see Quirrell alive, and is even now being held in the school infirmary under close observation. Though Headmaster Albus Dumbledore refused to speak to the _Daily Prophet_, we were able to learn that there was a suspicious artifact held in the bowels of the school this year, purportedly kept in secret by the Headmaster himself._

_Lucius Malfoy, a prominent pureblood and generous benefactor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, had this to say about the incidents, "As a Hogwarts School Governor, I am horrified to learn that a dangerous object was being held at the school. My young son, Draco, was attending his first year this year, and he has informed me that not only was Potter allowed to roam freely to cause mischief, but there was an incident at__ Halloween__ involving a mountain troll being let into the school. The incident was swept aside by the Headmaster; however the Board will be looking into the situation, as well as the death of a fine, upstanding member of the Hogwarts staff. It is with sadness that I must offer my condolences to Quirrell's family, and I assure the parents of those children attending our school that both the Headmaster and young Mr. Potter will be investigated."_

_So why was no notice given to parents regarding a troll being let loose in a school? And why is Mr. Potter being held for observation? What part of Quirrell's demise was at the hands of young Mr. Potter? These questions go unanswered as long as Albus Dumbledore remains silent. The _Daily Prophet_ urges all parents of current students to inquire as to the safety of their children, in the hopes that the truth will be uncovered._

_(For more on Harry Potter's supposed defeat of You-Know-Who, see page 3)_

_(Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, or Master Manipulator, see page 4)_

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Lunch in the Great Hall was usually a boisterous affair, especially at the end of a school year. This afternoon, however, the sounds were muted, and there was a hiss of whispers spreading across each table as students obviously discussed that morning's article by Rita Skeeter.

"Don't pay any attention to them, Harry!"

Harry's eyes rose and met those of one of his best friends. "How can I not, Hermione? Did you even read that article in the _Prophet_? It makes me sound like I killed Quirrell on purpose to keep him from exposing some secret artifact being hidden by Dumbledore!"

"He's right, Hermione. Don't know why they talked to that stuffed up git Malfoy, though. Load of bloody bull is what he was spouting. I'd like to--"

Hermione's head whipped around to look at the redhead sitting next to her. "It doesn't matter what you'd like to do to him, Ronald. If Harry and Dumbledore don't respond back to those idle accusations, well then, everything should just blow over by the time school starts up again in September. I searched the library this morning after breakfast and I read some of Skeeter's older articles. That woman is nothing but a hack journalist who likes to stir up trouble and write tabloid lies."

Harry skirted his eyes around the Great Hall, watching the other students. Many students had their heads bent over what appeared to be copies of the paper, and their eyes would occasionally jump over towards him where he sat at the Gryffindor table. Unlike Hermione, he didn't think this would blow over so quickly.

"C'mon, I'm not really hungry any more. Let's go up to the common room and talk about this there. I don't really fancy having most of Hogwarts staring at me like a venomous snake in the zoo."

As the trio stood from the table and began to walk towards the doors, whispers and sharp looks followed Harry's every step. And when he drew too near a young Ravenclaw who sat at the end of the bench, she pulled away from him with a gasp, almost falling over her plate to keep her distance.

Harry's shoulders hunched forward as he quickened his pace out the door and into the entrance hall. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, their eyes showing their doubt over Hermione's hope for a quick death to Rita's story.

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_August 20, 1992_

_The Burrow_

Harry Potter was fuming. He stalked angrily through the tall grass towards the Weasley's orchard, clutching the morning's _Daily Prophet_ in his hand. He had snatched the paper from the table after breakfast and walked off, telling Ron he needed to be alone for awhile.

After yesterday's disastrous trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies, he knew the negative attention on him would get worse. But after reading that morning's article, he was definitely not looking forward to the coming school year.

Harry flopped down in the orchard and leaned back against a tree, drawing his knees up and smoothing out the crumpled newspaper. He ran a hand through his already messy hair and read the article again.

_**Gilderoy Lockhart Pledges to Help Boy-Who-Lived!**_

_**Famous Wizard is New Hogwarts Defense Professor**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In a surprising announcement yesterday, Gilderoy Lockhart told the crowds at Flourish and Blotts that he would be taking up the post as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts for the coming year._

_The announcement during Lockhart's book signing was interrupted by the _

_appearance of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Mr. Potter was linked to the death of last year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Quirinus Quirrell, under seriously questionable circumstances. There have been rumors surrounding Mr. Potter since then, alluding to possible incidents of dark magic use, and questions regarding his famous scar and how he was able to defeat such a dark wizard as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_Lockhart himself talked about these disturbing issues when he spoke to the _Prophet_ after his book signing yesterday afternoon. When asked about the photo he took with Mr. Potter (see photo below), Lockhart had this to say:_

"_Yes indeed, I did speak to Harry Potter today, the poor misguided young man. In my expert opinion as a long-time champion of the light, it would seem as if Mr. Potter is infected with some dark tendencies and has been under the influence of those that don't have his best interests at heart. Who knows where he was and what he did during those years after You-Know-Who's fall?"_

_Mr. Lockhart spoke again on this matter later in the interview, and gave us some insight into Mr. Potter's behavior. _

"_I've had experience with the sorts of dark magic that might seduce a young wizard like Harry Potter before. If you've read my book, Year with the Yeti, you'll know that during my travels in Tibet I met a young monk who was attacked by a dark wizard I was tracking. After the attack he seemed drawn to the use of dark magic. It took me almost 5 days to convince the monk that he needed to turn from those thoughts and banish the vestiges of evil the dark wizard had left in him. It is my greatest hope that I shall be able to similarly help Mr. Potter when I arrive at Hogwarts, and I'm sure I'll be able to work closely with him, to convince him that what he's done in the past is wrong."_

_The _Daily Prophet_ wishes good luck to Gilderoy Lockhart in his upcoming year at Hogwarts, and we can all hope that a man as great as he is will be able to shed some light onto Harry Potter's troubles and get him the help he so obviously needs._

_(For the full interview with Gilderoy Lockhart, see page 3)_

With a sigh, Harry threw the newspaper to the ground and leaned his head back, feeling the rough bark of the tree cutting into his scalp. The slight pain helped distract him from his anger, as his thoughts turned to the Weasley's reactions that morning. Mrs. Weasley tossing her entire collection of Lockhart books into the rubbish bin had pleased him on a visceral level. Remembering Lockhart's smarmy face being chewed up by the magical rubbish bin made him smile for the first time that day. His happy recollections were interrupted by the approach of his best friend.

"Hey mate… feeling any better?" Ron sheepishly asked, as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Yeah. Thanks, you know… for giving me some time to cool down," said Harry.

"Any time, mate. S'not like I want to deal with a grouchy git like you first thing in the morning anyway, you know?"

Harry laughed and stood up, joining his friend in walking back to the Burrow.

Neither boy noticed the small redheaded girl perched on a branch halfway up the tree Harry had leaned against. Wedging her back more firmly against the trunk of the tree, Ginny Weasley sighed as she watched her brother and his friend walk away. She turned back to the diary she held in her lap, as she dipped her quill into the ink pot and continued to write to her new friend, Tom.

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_December 23, 1992_

_**Potter a Parselmouth!**_

_**Slytherin's Heir Claims Another Victim at Hogwarts**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In another vicious attack on the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Second year Hufflepuff, was petrified last Friday afternoon, along with the resident Gryffindor house ghost known as Sir Nicholas._

_This was the third attack this year at Hogwarts, and the second time a student was petrified. Both students were Muggleborns, and after the warning earlier in the term referring to "enemies of the Heir", it is certain that Slytherin's Heir is targeting those whom he or she considers to be of lesser blood status._

_The identity of Slytherin's Heir is still unknown, however in a shocking revelation, the _Daily Prophet_ has learned that Harry Potter himself is a parselmouth. This disturbing news was discovered during a dueling club meeting hosted by famous wizard Gilderoy Lockhart, who is serving as this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Lockhart was demonstrating defensive charms and shields when an unnamed student accidentally conjured a snake on the dueling stage. _

_What happened next is alarming. In an exclusive interview with a student whose identity is hidden for their own protection, the _Daily Prophet_ has learned that Harry Potter spoke in Parseltongue to the snake, and appeared to direct it towards one of his classmates. That classmate was none other than Mr. Finch-Fletchley who was attacked just a day later._

_Parseltongue is widely considered to be a skill of dark magic practitioners, and it is well known that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a parselmouth. The other most famous parselmouth was Salazar Slytherin, who was purported to have built the Chamber of Secrets somewhere in the school._

_Could this be proof positive that Harry Potter is Slytherin's Heir? Why have there been no investigations allowed by Ministry experts to determine the identity of the fiend who has unleashed Slytherin's beast? This reporter can only hope that Mr. Potter, if he is indeed responsible for these heinous deeds, will turn himself in and allow the Ministry to get rid of whatever monster he is using to attack the unsuspecting students of Hogwarts._

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_June 3, 1993_

_Hogwarts_

Harry stomped around the far edge of the Black Lake, as far away from the front doors of Hogwarts as possible. He wanted to avoid the stares and whispers of the students, and the wary glances some of the teachers had started to send his way. Yesterday's _Daily Prophet_ story still thundered through his mind, causing acid to roil angrily through his guts. He knew if he saw Rita Skeeter today, he might just be capable of some of the dark magic she kept accusing him of.

He kicked his sneakers through the pebbles that lay on the shoreline, watching as they dribbled and bounced away from him into the lake. Harry snorted as he imagined each one being Rita's head, and wondered how much more he could take of her lies.

A sound off to his left drew his attention, and he grabbed his wand from his pocket. With a final rustle of branches the thick brush disgorged a small redhead who looked to be in a high temper, as she roughly swatted the leaves from her robes. She appeared to be both scowling and mumbling, but Harry noticed her eyes were red and puffy, and he could see tear tracks against the blush of her cheeks.

"Ginny?"

Ginny's head jerked around and she stared at Harry for a moment, her face beginning to blush even more.

"Hi Harry," Ginny said, ducking her head down as she walked over to the edge of the lake.

"Um… are you okay?" Harry asked. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to say to a girl who looked like she'd been crying, but he figured that was a rather good start.

Ginny glanced up at him with an incredulous look on her face, before she shook her head and sighed.

"I'm just fine, Harry. Thanks." The tone of her voice left little doubt in Harry's mind that what he'd just asked had not, in fact, been a good start.

"Er… sorry. That was probably a really stupid question, wasn't it," Harry mumbled, shoving his wand back in his pocket and ambling over closer to where Ginny was now gazing across the lake.

"It's just… it's just been a really bad year. And then that article…" Ginny's voice trailed off as she obviously remembered what Skeeter had written about her. "I mean, I know you've had several of these awful things printed about you in the last year, but… the things she said… and all the other kids are just staring, and Malfoy said–" Ginny broke off at that point, her mouth drawing into a thin line and her brow furrowing in anger.

"Malfoy's an arse, Ginny. You should just ignore him," Harry argued.

"Like you do, you mean?" Ginny finally looked directly at him with that last comment, and Harry knew he was being a big hypocrite by telling her that.

Harry chuckled and admitted, "Yeah, I know. Yet another stupid comment, I suppose. What did the little git say to you, anyway?"

Ginny glanced away looking uncomfortable, her fingers starting to toy with the frayed ends of her robe sleeves, as she shrugged off Harry's question.

"It was nothing. He's a git, like you said."

"He mentioned what Skeeter said in her article, didn't he?" Harry grimaced as he remembered the vile things Skeeter had written, especially considering she was writing about an 11-year-old girl. He could well imagine that Malfoy would take special delight in reminding Ginny of what the article said.

Harry heard Ginny sniffle, and watched as she rubbed her hand across her eyes. She kept her head turned away, but he knew she was very upset by the allegations. He shuffled his feet and glanced back towards Hogwarts, hoping in vain that perhaps Hermione would show up and help. _No such luck, _he thought._ Okay, so what do I do with a crying girl?_

Reaching up, he patted her on the shoulder awkwardly, and murmured "There, there."

Ginny let out a laugh, and roughly scrubbed her face with the heels of her palms. "Merlin, Harry, you're awful at this, aren't you?"

"Sorry. It's just–"

"No, don't worry about it." Ginny laughed again, and turned back towards him, wearing the start of a smile. "It was funny, actually. And I haven't had much to laugh about, lately."

Harry flashed a lop-sided grin, and watched a light blush come back over her cheeks. But her eyes were brighter than they were before, and she fell into step with him as he started back towards the front doors of Hogwarts.

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_August 8, 1993_

_The Burrow_

Harry's eyes roved across the newspaper as he read that morning's _Daily Prophet_. His guts clenched as he saw the announcement of his trial that would take place the following day, ignoring the large breakfast that Mrs. Weasley had just set down in front of him.

"What's the Daily Rubbish say today, mate?" Ron asked through a mouthful of toast.

"Daily Rubbish?"

Ron laughed and chugged his glass of pumpkin juice, then leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear. "That's what Ginny's started calling it, least 'round Mum and Dad. Her other name for it is way funnier, but Mum practically had kittens when she heard what Ginny said."

Harry forced a smile, and went back to reading the _Prophet_. The headlines were mostly concerning his trial, but there was another story about Ginny and the Weasleys further down the page. The Weasleys had won the annual _Daily Prophet_ Grand Prize Galleon Draw earlier in the summer, and had used the 700 galleons to increase the strength of their wards. Soon after they returned from school, reporters and photographers started showing up at all hours of the day and night, trying to get pictures of Ginny or Ron, and fishing for inflammatory quotes that would sell more papers.

After Ginny had nearly hexed a _Daily Prophet_ reporter when he quoted Skeeter's new name for her, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided against a trip to Egypt and had instead contacted Bill to come install better wards. Ron's eldest brother had made good use of his Gringotts connections and a team of ward builders had installed them a week later. Since then, not a single person not allowed in by the Weasleys had passed onto their property. Harry was extremely grateful for this, since he would be spending the rest of the summer at the Burrow.

After losing control of his anger and blowing up his aunt, he'd accidentally called the Knight Bus and ran to the only place he knew he'd be welcome – the Burrow. Showing up in the middle of the night wasn't his best entrance, but Mr. Weasley had been waiting for him, warned ahead of time by a floo call from Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley's warm welcome had been a comforting balm to Harry's flayed nerves, but the Ministry owl that showed up right after had set him on edge again.

A thumping could be heard coming down the stairs, and shortly thereafter a rather disheveled figure slouched into the room. Harry lowered the paper and watched Ginny scuff her way across the kitchen, her faded dressing gown almost falling off her shoulders. The ties that were supposed to hold it closed were dragging on the floor, and she wore an overlarge t-shirt and pajama pants that had obviously belonged to one of her brothers at some point.

"G'morning Ginny," Ron said, grinning at his sister's scowl.

Ginny fell into her chair at the kitchen table, and laid her head down on her folded arms, pointedly ignoring the paper that Harry had laid in the middle of the table.

"Where's Mum at, Ron?"

"She went out to get more eggs from the chicken coop. Why?"

Ginny raised her head and reached out to drag the _Daily Prophet_ over to where she could read it, her lips thinning out and her scowl getting worse. Harry knew she must be reading Skeeter's latest comments about herself.

"I see Skeeter's Daily Shitecan report is all rot today. As usual. Mum's been tearing out the sections on me lately before I can read them. As if I didn't already know half the ruddy Wizarding world now thinks I'm Slytherin's Mistress. And 'Descent into Darkness', my arse. Bloody Skeeter is a cow."

Harry winced at the nickname Skeeter had coined, one that had quickly caught on amongst the students at Hogwarts during the last week of school. He caught Ginny's eye across the table, and she shrugged and went back to reading the paper.

Harry's thoughts turned back to his trial, and he wondered if Dumbledore would be able to help him that much, considering he really had used magic on his aunt. Even if that magic had been accidental and preceded by the foul insults Marge had hurled at his parents.

His residual anger at Marge met up with his already anxious stomach, and Harry shoved his plate away after barely taking a few bites from it. He knew the trial would not be easy for him, and he could only imagine what Skeeter would write after it, no matter the outcome. Harry wondered whether he'd even be returning to the Burrow the following day, or if they'd just march him straight off to Azkaban.

Harry shook his head at his own maudlin thoughts, and finally grinned a little as he watched Ginny tear the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ into shreds. She stood up and dumped them into Errol's cage, startling the owl from where he'd been slumped over his water dish.

"There. That's about the only good use for that piece of shite," Ginny declared.

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_August 10, 1993_

_**Potter Found Not Guilty by Wizengamot**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In a narrow victory for the Boy-Who-Lived, the Wizengamot found Harry Potter not guilty yesterday after his trial before the esteemed court. Potter was charged with offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy, in connection with his attack on a Muggle at his place of residence. Potter, who has been linked to several dubious events since his return to the Wizarding world, was represented by Albus Dumbledore, recently removed from his position as Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock._

_Stamford Jorkins, a Ministry spokesperson, had this to say when the _Daily Prophet_ asked for a comment: "The Ministry of Magic stands by the Wizengamot's decision, however the offenses committed by Mr. Potter were serious and disturbing. We urge Mr. Potter to seek assistance with his obvious anger management issues. The Ministry hopes that any further incidents like this one will be avoided."_

_While reports indicate that the Muggle in question was returned to her prior state and swiftly obliviated to assure that she did not remember the episode, Potter's reasons for the attack are still unknown. Is this yet more evidence of his mental instability? And if the young man does indeed have "anger management" issues as the Ministry suggested, what else is Albus Dumbledore hiding in his constant protection of Mr. Potter. It is well known that all previous attempts to obtain a direct interview with the famous Boy-Who-Lived have been deflected by the aging Headmaster. What exactly is Dumbledore hiding?_

_For now, Mr. Potter remains a mystery. The _Daily Prophet_ has learned however, that he is currently in residence at The Burrow, the ramshackle home of the Weasley family, for the remainder of the summer. We question the Headmaster's wisdom in allowing a young man with such obvious mental issues to remain in such close contact with a family that includes another student with a shameful past._

_Ginevra Weasley, with her actions last term as Slytherin's Mistress in attacks on Muggleborn students, must surely know of such shady and underhanded magic as was most likely used by Mr. Potter. Is Mr. Potter's close relationship with Slytherin's Mistress a way for him to learn more powerful spells? Is it safe for our children to be attending school with such students as these? Ones who have repeatedly been linked to mysterious deaths and horrific monsters? _

_The _Daily Prophet_ will continue looking into these serious issues and will keep the public informed._

_(For more on Miss Weasley, see yesterday's front page article "Slytherin's Mistress – A Descent into Darkness")_

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_September 1, 1993_

_Hogwarts Express_

Ginny rubbed her bleary eyes and glanced back out the window of their train car as the Hogwarts Express sped across the English countryside. Raindrops were splattering against the windowpane, and the dreary weather matched her mood. She'd had another dream the night before, waking in a sweat with a scream that she only just managed to swallow. Her mum was already hovering after last year and the summer's increasingly foul articles in the _Daily Prophet_. The last thing she needed was her mum barging in at 3 in the morning after hearing her screams.

Thoughts of last night's nightmare reminded her of how much she didn't want to return to Hogwarts. Her dreams over the summer had slowly switched from horrible scenes of Tom's laughter at the sight of the basilisk devouring Harry, to imagined encounters in Hogwarts dungeons with enraged students out to stop 'Slytherin's Mistress' before she hurt someone again.

_Bloody Skeeter._

Her nightmares were coming true already, as she'd had a taste of what was to come in the year ahead when she first stepped foot on the train. Ginny's roommates, Demelza Robins and Vicky Frobisher, had been just ahead of the Weasleys as they boarded, and she'd waved to them as she passed by the cabin they were entering. Vicky's horrified expression and Demelza's quick withdrawal from the corridor told her enough. Though they'd been somewhat friendly last year, it was obvious they'd read Skeeter's articles and believed her vicious lies. Whispers had followed her down the corridor to the cabin where her brother and his friends were sitting.

_Slytherin's Mistress._

She hated that woman and the foul name. _If Malfoy says it even once, I swear I'm going to hex his tongue to fork like the snake he is._

Pushing these thoughts to the side, Ginny turned back to watch her brother trouncing Harry again in Wizard's chess. She had no idea why he continued to play against Ron, but at least it brought his attention away from his previous announcement.

Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and Dumbledore had warned Harry after his trial that he needed to be more careful this year. Ginny knew he was disappointed that he wouldn't get to visit Hogsmeade with the other Third Years, but maybe she could keep him company during those days. They had grown a little closer over the summer when he stayed with them at the Burrow, and she had finally forced herself to stop acting like an idiot around him.

_For the most part, anyway. Stupid crush._

She'd been surprised when Ron hadn't said anything about her joining them in the cabin when they boarded the train. Ginny had watched the play of emotions across his face, before he sighed and stepped inside. She'd been sure he was about to tell her to beat it, but Ron had been acting a lot nicer to her over the summer. And she knew there'd been a few scuffles between him and some of the Slytherins last year when Malfoy had started repeating what Skeeter had said in the first articles that appeared after the events in the Chamber had come out.

_I'll have to think of something nice to do for him_, she thought. She grinned to herself as she remembered that Hermione's birthday was in a few weeks. _Maybe I'll remind him to get her a present. _Of course, she wasn't sure if that'd be something nice for him or something nice for Hermione. _Poor girl, dunno why she likes the big lump._

Ginny's thoughts about Hermione and her brother were interrupted at a tentative knock to their cabin door. Hermione stood up and opened it, letting in Neville Longbottom.

"Um, hi Hermione. Er… d'you mind if I join you guys? It's j-just that, um…"

"Of course, Neville. You're more than welcome to join us," Hermione answered, stepping back to let Neville into the cabin.

"Thanks," Neville said with obvious relief. He sat down in the seat next to Ginny, and glanced over towards the corner seat across from them where a haggard man continued to sway in his sleep as the train rumbled over the tracks.

"Er…"

"We're thinking that's the new Defense teacher," Ginny answered his obvious question. They had kept quiet for the most part in deference to the man's obvious exhaustion. She could see the lines of sleepless nights across his scarred face and wondered again about his presence on the train. She couldn't remember her brothers ever mentioning teachers riding the Hogwarts Express.

"So how was your summer, Neville?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice. Ron and Harry had put away their chess game when Neville joined them in the crowded train car. Ginny watched Neville become a little nervous when attention shifted to him, but he answered in a quiet voice, explaining about his Gran letting him visit several greenhouses over the summer vacation.

"How was all of your summers?" Neville asked. Ginny saw an angry look flash across Harry's face, and felt her own forehead wrinkling in a scowl as she thought of what to say.

"Oh. Er… sorry, Harry and Ginny, I know you, um… p-probably don't want to… I mean, I read the articles in the _Daily Prophet_. Or at least, some of them. My Gran cancelled our subscription after the one about your trial, Harry. I was really glad to hear that you'd gotten off okay." Neville's face flushed red in embarrassment as he realized what he'd said. But Ginny saw him take a deep breath and sit up a little straighter.

"Listen, I don't believe a word they say in the papers, you guys. And neither does my Gran. She's always said that Dumbledore has the right of things, and… well… I'm your friend no matter what the rest say." Neville's eyes grew wide after saying that, and he continued in a slightly more timid voice. "I mean… you know, I believe you and–"

"Thanks, Neville," Harry interrupted Neville's rapid explanations, and a small smile grew on the timid boy's face. Ginny was about to add her own thanks when she felt the train begin to slow down, then lurched forward with the rest of them as it came to a sudden stop. Just as she was about to ask if they were there early, all the lamps in the train went out and they were left in sudden darkness. The chill of the wind and rain seeped through the window and added to the now tense atmosphere.

As she listened to the others squabble over whose foot had stepped on whom, Ginny shivered a little as the car seemed to grow colder. The stern "Quiet!" that came suddenly from the previously sleeping man startled her, but it was the door to their cabin opening that drew all her attention.

The cloaked figure that hovered in the doorway seemed to suck all the remaining warmth from her body, and as it drew in a rattling breath, Ginny heard a quiet, disturbing laugh in her ear. The cold overwhelmed her… there was no warmth, no light, no sound except Tom's voice telling her she'd always be his. She'd always be surrounded by his darkness.

Her body shaking uncontrollably, Ginny sank into that darkness.

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_October 31, 1993_

_Hogwarts_

Harry walked alongside Ginny as they followed Ron and Hermione after the Halloween feast. The pleasant evening had made up for his earlier morose feelings about not being allowed to attend Hogsmeade, and he and Ginny had spent dinner listening to Ron and Hermione tell them all about the wonders of butterbeer and the candy at Honeydukes. They were heading back to Gryffindor tower after stuffing themselves to bursting and watching the Hogwarts ghosts entertain the students. Even Malfoy's annoying call of "Hey Weaslette and Potter! The dementors send their love!" hadn't dimmed his mood. Ginny even seemed to shrug off Draco's comments for once, and didn't react with her usual hexes and threats.

He had been rather depressed earlier, after the students had left for the village, and had wandered the castle, where he'd run into Ginny sitting on a windowsill near the stairs to the Owlery. Harry was going to see Hedwig after being told off by Filch, but decided to stop and talk to her instead.

Harry had noticed that Ginny seemed to be hanging around the trio more often since school started two months ago. But he didn't mind so much. She was funny, with a sharp tongue and a wicked sense of humor that she used to deflect the comments they often garnered in the hallways. And although he still occasionally saw her blush when he caught her eye, for the most part she was as fun to be around as Ron or Hermione. Her knowledge of Quidditch rivaled her brother's and they would often get into in-depth arguments over who had the best chasers, or when the Cannons would finally win a game. Harry rather thought Ginny had the right of things in supporting a team that at least had a chance of winning.

Ginny had joined him in his trek around the castle that afternoon, as they talked about their classes and made scathing comments about Snape, Malfoy, and Rita Skeeter. The reporter had been a little quiet lately, to Harry's relief, but he knew by now that it was only a lull before she came up with her latest lies and stories. Looking back on it now, Harry realized that it had actually turned into an enjoyable afternoon, especially once they'd run into Professor Lupin and joined him for tea. And though Snape's arrival with the potion for Lupin killed the rest of the conversation, he was glad that Ginny had been there for the trip back to the tower, trading quips about what suspicious compound Snape had just fed the kindly Defense Professor.

Their group was almost to the hallway that led to the portrait of the Fat Lady, when Harry, laughing at Ron's comment about Crookshanks, accidentally bumped into another student. He heard a gasp and looked down to see a young girl jerk away from him with a frightened look on her face. The girl stepped aside and almost ran into Ginny, who put her hand on the girl's arm to keep her from tripping over her feet.

"Don't touch me!" the girl screamed, then yanked her arm away from Ginny and ran ahead, disappearing into the crowd of Gryffindors.

"Who the hell was that?" Harry asked.

Ginny heaved a sigh and looked a bit reluctant, but answered Harry's question. "Vicky Frobisher. She's in my year. The other girls in my dorm don't… well, they don't like me very much. Usually I just… stay away from them."

Harry wished he knew what to say to his friend, and was about to mumble a quick "sorry", when they finally arrived near the entrance and found it jammed with students.

"Why aren't they going in?" Ron asked, as he, being the tallest, tried to peer over the heads of the students in front of them.

"Let me through please, I'm Head Boy. Here now, you can't have all forgot the password–" Percy's authoritative voice rang through the crowd, but the silence that followed shimmered backwards until the hallway was still.

Harry could just see Percy's face over the heads of the other students, and the Head Boy caught his eye from his spot near the portrait. Percy scowled at Harry standing shoulder to shoulder with Ron and Ginny. At the look Percy gave him, however, Harry felt Ron stand taller next to him, and saw Ginny's fierce gaze and crossed arms. Apparently, they weren't budging. The Head Boy's eyes slid away from his siblings and off to the side where Neville stood by himself.

"Mr. Longbottom, run and get Professor Dumbledore. Quickly, please," Percy asked. But just as Harry saw Neville turn to fetch the Headmaster, he felt a steadying hand fall on his shoulder.

"It's alright, students. I am here." Dumbledore's hand left his shoulder and Harry watched the crowd of Gryffindors part before the Headmaster as he swept towards the portrait. The four students followed in his wake to see what was going on.

The Fat Lady was missing from her portrait, shreds of canvas littering the floor showing the violence of the attack. Dumbledore turned a somber face towards Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape who had just come upon the scene.

"We must find the Fat Lady. Professor McGonagall, please ask Filch to search every painting until he locates her. The rest of you aid in the search," Dumbledore said, but Peeves' sharp cackle interrupted any further instructions.

As Harry listened to Peeves tell Dumbledore what happened, the name of Sirius Black sent a chill down his spine, and his three friends turned to him with worried looks.

Professor Dumbledore sent all the students back to the Great Hall under the supervision of the other teachers, but before Harry could join the mumbling crowd, he was held back.

"Harry would you and your friends please wait a moment. I'd like a quick word with you, if you don't mind," Dumbledore said. Harry looked at Ginny and she shrugged back at him, as Ron and Hermione joined them in front of their venerable Headmaster. A few of the departing students threw suspicious looks back at them as they heard Dumbledore's request. A sharp look from the Headmaster quickly sent them scurrying to catch up with the rest of the Gryffindors.

"Now Harry, I am aware that you were unable to attend Hogsmeade today with the rest of the Third Years, however I would like to know how you spent your time today," Dumbledore asked.

Harry furrowed his brow at this question, but he quickly explained that he and Ginny had roamed the castle for awhile, before enjoying tea with Professor Lupin. Dumbledore repeated his odd request to Ron and Hermione, and their answer was obvious – they'd spent the day in Hogsmeade.

Dumbledore nodded the entire time, then asked all four, "Did any of you encounter anything odd, or see anyone you didn't recognize or who acted strangely? Was there any time you might have seen something… unusual?"

Ginny looked at him skeptically, but they all answered in the negative. Harry was uncertain what Dumbledore was looking for, but he didn't think Snape's odd potion delivery to Professor Lupin qualified for what the Headmaster had asked.

"Very well. I would ask you four to be especially careful after this, and Harry, please be observant walking around the castle. I would like to remind you that after-hours trips, even under an invisibility cloak, would not be prudent at this time. Sirius Black is not a man to be underestimated, if he could slip in so easily," Dumbledore warned them all, and Harry nodded his agreement.

Climbing into his snug sleeping bag later that evening in the Great Hall, Harry shared a hushed conversation with his friends. Hermione seemed very concerned that Sirius Black might still be in the castle, but none of them could come up with a viable way for the madman to get past Dumbledore's protections and the dementors at the front gates.

Wavering on the edge of sleep, Harry watched the moonlight shine off of Ginny's flaming red hair, and heard Ron's snores coming from next to him, interspersed with Hermione's sleepless rustles on the other side of Ginny. He wondered at his placement in the middle of his friends as they lay in their secluded corner away from the other students who refused to sleep near them.

Harry felt a sudden warmth in his chest that eased the fear, anger, and depression he'd experienced throughout the day, as he realized his friends had surrounded him in an effort to protect him from any possible attacks. _A madman wants to kill me, the newspaper calls me an angry basket case, the other students think I'm crazy, or worse, a dark wizard. And these three still want to be my friends._

Harry smiled a bit, and for once slept without dreaming.

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_November 2, 1993_

_**Sirius Black Attacks Hogwarts!**_

_**Lone Madman or Aided Assassin?**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In a vicious attack, escaped convict Sirius Black is responsible for the destruction of a Hogwarts painting, said to be the entrance to the Gryffindor House dormitories. The attack happened during the Halloween Feast, when all the students and teachers were blissfully enjoying their puddings and ghostly entertainment._

_Exactly 12 years after the death of his dark master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it seems Sirius Black is once again going on a rampage. His previous attacks that led to his incarceration included the death of one of his former best friends, Peter Pettigrew._

_One might wonder at the timing and target of Black's assault; however the _Daily Prophet_ knows that Harry Potter is a Gryffindor himself, and it has been speculated that Black's escape was in an effort to get revenge for the death of his master._

_However, new sources have brought to light some interesting information that leads us to a different possible explanation. This reporter has discovered that Sirius Black, who was once best friends with the slain James Potter, was named as Harry Potter's godfather and guardian at the behest of his parents._

_  
In addition, it is known that Halloween was the first Hogsmeade trip for the Hogwarts students for this school year. Yet, this reporter has learned that Potter himself was not amongst those who attended the day's festivities. What possible reason could a young man have for not attending his first ever trip to the famed Hogsmeade, where scores of students were seen making merry at the various shops?_

_Could it be that this young man is somehow in collusion with his godfather, and found a way for him to enter unseen to the school? If so, what dastardly deeds did Black intend to commit when the students returned from the night's feast?_

_While Black's motives and means of entry are still unknown, what is certain is Albus Dumbledore's increasing inadequacies where school security is concerned. Since Mr. Potter began his Hogwarts career less than 3 years ago, there have been deaths and attacks every year. How much more has to happen before something is done? What kinds of atrocities need to befall our students before action is taken to ensure their safety?_

_(For more information on Sirius Black's escape and previous crimes, see "A Murderer's Mind – The Depths of Madness" on page 4.)_

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_June 9, 1994_

_Hogwarts Infirmary_

Harry and Hermione slipped quickly back into their hospital beds, Hermione tucking the Time-Turner under her robes. Ron was still unconscious in a bed across the aisle, but Ginny's eyes were wide open and alert, and Harry had only a moment to press his finger to his lips before Madam Pomfrey came striding out of her office.

The hospital matron was in an obviously bad mood, and as she shoved chocolate at the three students, her murmurs and imprecations against intrusive professors and headmasters made Harry cringe. He exchanged anxious glances with Hermione, nibbling at his piece of chocolate. They waited, listening for any sound that might indicate that others knew of Sirius' escape. Just as Madam Pomfrey was removing the bandages from Ginny's arm, a distant roar of fury echoed from above them.

Angry voices grew nearer, and Madam Pomfrey's outrage was evident in her flushed face, her heels clacking across the stone floor as she approached the locked entrance. The hospital wing doors slammed open, startling the matron who gave out a short scream.

Minister Fudge strode into the ward, followed by a furious-looking Snape, and a short, toad-like woman dressed all in pink. Her eyes made Harry shrink back into his pillow, the look in them reminding him of his Uncle Vernon. The toad-woman's gaze turned to Ginny, and her lips thinned in a smile that was unnerving. Harry instantly loathed her.

Dumbledore ambled along serenely behind them, and joined the group as Fudge reached the foot of Harry's bed. He nodded slightly at Harry, just as Snape's fury reached a fever pitch.

"Out with it, Potter!" Snape bellowed. "What did you do?"

"Professor Snape!" shrieked Madam Pomfrey, bristling at the intrusion into her ward. Dumbledore laid a hand on her arm, calming her explosion.

"It would be in your best interest to talk now, boy," said Fudge with a scowl. "Whatever you did to aid in Black's escape–"

Harry's jaw clenched in anger, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the sheets in an effort to keep back the retort at hearing the Minister use that hated name.

"You must see reason, Cornelius. This ward has been locked since I left it ten minutes ago, and Madam Pomfrey has undoubtedly not allowed these students out of their beds," Dumbledore said, calmly interrupting the Minister.

A high, girlish giggle bubbled out of the toad-woman as she stood next to the Minister, and she turned to Dumbledore with a condescending look.

"Surely, Dumbledore, you cannot expect us to believe that these students were blameless in all this? Severus has already said they attacked him without provocation, and with Sirius Black being Mr. Potter's godfather, it is evident that he would have some hand in his escape. Not to mention the history of the Weasley girl and Mr. Potter. Their tainted backgrounds certainly warrant further investigation in regards to this evening's events."

"Madam Umbridge–"

"Undersecretary Umbridge, if you don't mind."

"Apologies. Undersecretary Umbridge," Dumbledore continued. "My students' use of the disarming charm on Professor Snape was not, as you indicated, without provocation. They were in a highly stressful situation, and reacted to what they thought was an immediate danger."

Snape stood there, seething, and Harry imagined he could almost hear his teeth grinding together as he glared at the Headmaster.

"Now, since there is no evidence of these students being involved in Sirius Black's escape, nor did they have any opportunity with being locked in this ward the entire time, I see no reason to continue intruding on their recuperation. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would appreciate us leaving her patients to get some rest," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

"And the attack on Professor Snape, Dumbledore? Something like that deserves punishment! These… these criminal acts cannot continue," Fudge blustered, his face turning puce at being dismissed out of hand.

"There were no criminal acts committed by any of these students, Cornelius, as I have said time and again," Dumbledore responded, his face stern. "If any punishment is required, it will be handled by the school, as the incident took place on school grounds."

Minister Fudge glared at the Headmaster for a moment longer, then turned and strode angrily to the doors. He was passed by Snape, his black robes swishing behind him as he stormed out.

"Dolores, we need to be off. I must go and alert the Ministry that Black has escaped again. Perhaps the Aurors can pick up his trail from here before he gets too far," Fudge said gruffly.

Dolores Umbridge turned her bulging eyes towards Harry as her short, stubby fingers fastened her cloak. The malice in her gaze seared into him until she broke away to face Dumbledore.

"Hem, hem. I'm sure you will keep a close watch on these two, Dumbledore. After all, one does not want to let darkness seep in like a lethifold in the night. Actions like these require accountability. It would be unfortunate if the Ministry had to step in, should another situation occur," Umbridge said, her high-pitched voice grating on Harry's ears.

He watched her walk away, primly setting a small, pink pillbox hat on her head as she drew near to Fudge. The Minister stomped out, Umbridge's simpering form following after him.

Dumbledore sighed, and then bid the students a goodnight before leaving, his long purple robes disappearing behind the doors as Madam Pomfrey locked them again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back to her office.

It was quiet for a moment, and then –

"What the bloody hell happened tonight?" Ginny hissed out in a whisper.

Harry looked over at Hermione, her worried eyes gazing back at him as she shrugged. He slipped out of bed quietly and padded across the cold stone floor to Ginny's bed. Propping himself up next to her, he began the long explanation of Sirius' flight from Hogwarts.

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_August 26, 1994_

_The Burrow_

"Hurry up, Harry!"

Harry broke into a run behind Ginny's slim form as she darted between the trees in the orchard, a crumpled newspaper clutched in her fist. He panted as he tried to keep up with her, throwing quick glances back over his shoulder to see if Mrs. Weasley had noticed that the four of them were missing.

They reached the shade of a large yew tree, and Harry flopped to the ground next to Ron as Ginny tossed the newspaper to Hermione.

"Took you two long enough," Ron grumbled as he glanced at his sister.

"Well then next time _you_ can be the one to sneak in and find where Mum's hid the _Prophet_. Besides, it took forever for Harry to draw her away from the kitchen long enough for me to sneak into the pantry," Ginny said, plucking an apple from her pocket and tossing it at Ron's head.

"Thanks, Gin," Ron mumbled around a bite of the apple.

Hermione huffed in exasperation as she opened the newspaper with a snap, smoothing out the crinkled pages against her legs. Her eyes roved quickly up and down, and Harry tapped his fingers anxiously against his knee. Glancing over, he saw Ginny biting her lip and shredding handfuls of grass.

"Well?" Ginny said expectantly, throwing a stalk of grass at Hermione.

"It's… well, it's rather… unflattering, I'd say," Hermione explained. She took a deep breath and started to read.

_**Dark Mark Terrorizes Quidditch World Cup!**_

_**Potter and Weasley Connected to Incident**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Scenes of terror and violence tainted last night's Quidditch World Cup as the Dark Mark was seen over the skies of Britain for the first time since the demise of You-Know-Who. _

_Soon after the match ended, scores of dark wizards were seen torturing Muggles and sending fiery blasts into the crowds of Quidditch fans. Lax security allowed these culprits to go unapprehended, and many who attended the event wonder how that could happen._

_One spectator indicated that Harry Potter was in attendance last night, and further investigation shows that he was in the company of several members of the Weasley family. That included Ginevra Weasley, known as Slytherin's Mistress, and the culprit behind the attacks on Muggleborn students at Hogwarts nearly two years ago._

_A source inside the Ministry states that when Ministry employees arrived on the scene where the Dark Mark was cast they found several teenagers in the immediate area. These teenagers included Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, who both apparently denied any involvement in casting the dark spell. However, a search of the woods surrounding the area turned up Mr. Potter's wand, and a Prior Incantato showed that it was the wand that cast the Dark Mark._

_Just how did Potter's wand cast the spell that has always been connected with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? According to our source, Potter claimed a house elf stole his wand while he watched the Quidditch match. Unbelievably, his excuse was accepted and his wand returned to him, and Potter was allowed to leave._

_Some might wonder how a young man of 14 could know that spell. Yet Miss Weasley is a constant companion of Potter, and she surely has knowledge of dark spells such as that one, from her months spent wallowing in Slytherin's darkest magics._

_After the incident, terrified wizards and witches waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood. If they expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official, later identified as Arthur Weasley (father of Ginevra Weasley), emerged from the scene of the crime and alleged that nobody had been hurt, but he refused to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen._

_Were Potter and Weasley responsible for casting the Dark Mark? Are the rumors about the bodies true, and were they in any way connected to these obviously dark and troubled teens? The _Daily Prophet_ will continue investigating this horrific crime, in an effort to find the truth._

"That's, um… that's all of it," Hermione said, weakly. She slowly folded the paper back up, her hands trembling slightly.

Harry's stomach burned in anger, and he scowled down at where his fingers were clawing into the soil, as if he could feel Skeeter's neck beneath his hands. His chest heaved faster as her words played back in his head. _I swear, one day I'm going to find that bitch and –_

A low growl built into a guttural scream as Ginny exploded next to him, her hand gripping her wand tightly as she paced under the yew's low branches. Red sparks shot from her wand and Hermione hurried to put out the small embers that smoldered in the dry grass.

Harry met Ginny's fuming gaze, his own outrage mirrored in her brown eyes.

"That bitch!" Ginny ground out between her gritted teeth. "If I ever see that lying cow, I'll show her just how dark I can be. Do you know what this school term is going to be like after this?!"

Harry nodded sharply, livid beyond the ability to speak. From the corner of his eye, he caught Ron and Hermione exchanging worried looks. But he remained silent, his chest burning, as Ginny continued her furious pacing.

_This year is going to be hell._

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_November 14, 1994_

_Hogwarts_

Harry plodded along the hallway, absently wiping the last of the pickled rats' brains from his hands with the trailing end of his robes. He avoided the stares and loud whispers of the students that were still out late that evening as he returned to Gryffindor tower after Snape's foul detention. Ron was his silent shadow, and Harry wondered again if his best mate would ever get over whatever it was that made him so angry after the Cup disgorged his name.

_Just remember what Ginny said_, he thought, not for the first time. _He'll get over it, eventually._

A small Hufflepuff boy was crouched ahead, picking up a stack of books that had fallen out of his bag. Harry approached him and knelt down to help, grabbing a Potions text that had slid further away.

"Here, you missed this one," Harry said, handing him the book.

The boy, small enough to be a first year, looked up at Harry and fell on his bum with a squeak, scuttling backwards like a crab after snatching the book from Harry's hands. The fear on the boy's face made Harry sigh wearily.

A hand reached down in his field of vision, and Harry followed it up to see Ron looking a bit worried and apologetic. Harry paused a moment, then grasped it, Ron's lanky body tugging him easily to his feet.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled.

Ron shrugged, and they continued down the hall side by side. The Fat Lady's portrait was within view before Ron finally spoke, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder to keep him from entering the tower.

"Listen, Harry… I, er… I mean…" Ron stopped and ran a hand through his hair. "Bollocks mate, I'm sorry, okay?"

A feeling of great relief flooded through Harry, but he needed to know one thing before accepting his best mate's apology.

"I know, Ron. But… why? I mean, why were you so convinced I put my name in the Cup? And why were you so hacked off at me?" Harry asked quietly.

"I guess…" Ron frowned and looked away uncomfortably. "I guess I thought you put your name in to try and, y'know… use the Tournament to prove you're not what everyone thinks you are. And I was hacked off because I didn't think you'd ever do something like that. I was more… disappointed, really. But I know you didn't do it, Harry. I believe that now."

Harry was taken aback at Ron's response. And the fact that Hermione and Ginny _both_ had guessed his reasoning correctly. _Bloody women's intuition._

"Best mates?" Harry said and stuck out his right hand.

Ron looked shocked for a moment, before grinning widely and shaking his hand, pulling Harry into a one-armed, back-slapping hug. They pulled apart quickly, ruffling their hair and clearing their throats.

"So… you think Hermione and Ginny are waiting for us in there? Wanna go give 'em a bit of a shock?" Ron grinned slyly.

Harry laughed, feeling a bit more light-hearted for the first time since term began.

Ron's grin fell from his face a bit as he chewed on his lip. Harry's laughter died off at the indecision in Ron's eyes.

"What?"

"Well, it's just, er… I was wondering about that article from this morning. I mean… I read it, and what Skeeter said about you and Ginny using dark magic of some kind to get your name into the Cup–"

"Seriously, Ron, I really don't want to talk about it," Harry broke in, scowling as he remembered that morning's _Prophet_. It made him furious when he thought about the renewed fear it brought out in the students, and he really didn't want to think about it right now.

"Sorry," Ron said, sheepishly. "So, er… what about that detention the greasy git made us do? Can you believe that tosser?"

Harry laughed again as they gave the password to the Fat Lady's portrait and ambled through. He caught Ginny's glance from across the common room, and smiled at her as she poked Hermione to get her attention away from her stacks of books. Hermione looked up with a start, and then sat up straighter in her chair at seeing Harry and Ron walking in together.

"Hey you two! You won't believe what that slimy Snape had us doing for detention. Eurgh, I think I still have rats' brains on my robes," Ron said with a grimace, as he slumped into an open chair at the girls' table.

Hermione looked from one boy to the other, her smile growing at their easy camaraderie. Harry nodded at her, and grinned at Ginny when she kicked out the last empty chair.

Harry sat down at the table, and joined in with Ron's verbal bashing of Snape, letting his friends' laughter take him away from his worries for a short time.

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_December 11, 1994_

_Hogwarts_

"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them, whispering and staring at Harry. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Lasso one?" Ron suggested.

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Lasso one what?"

Harry turned to the new voice to see Neville just behind him, apparently having come straight from the greenhouses. His hands were covered in potting soil, and his right cheek had a wide smudge of dirt across it.

"A girl, apparently. Ron thinks it's a proper way to get a girl away from the packs they travel in to ask them to the ball," Harry said.

"Neville, mate, you're covered in dirt. You better hope Filch doesn't see you," Ron said, glancing around to see if the old Caretaker was nearby.

Neville looked at his hands, and then inspected his robes where the hems were wet and muddy, grimacing slightly when he saw the state his clothes were in.

"Er, yeah… I was helping Professor Sprout with the Flutterby bushes. There were some left over from class that didn't get pruned, so she's giving me extra credit to help her," Neville said as he brushed his hands on his robes to try and get the dirt off. "Um… but Harry, er… I d-don't really think lassoing a girl to ask them to the ball is going to work. At least, it wasn't mentioned in the etiquette classes Gran made me take last summer."

"You take etiquette classes?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Um… Gran made me. She said it was so I could learn proper Wizarding behavior. Mostly it was a lot of drinking tea and learning about silverware," Neville said with a shrug.

Just then a pretty, dark-haired girl walked by, her school uniform sporting the Ravenclaw emblem. She ignored Ron, turned her lip up at Neville's soiled robes and dirty face, and then she saw Harry. Her face blanched and she clutched her books to her chest, quickening her pace as she walked by the Gryffindor boys.

All three watched in silence as she walked away, and Harry sighed as his eyes traveled down her back, admiring the sway of her hips and bum. His stomach swooped pleasantly, and he chewed his lip as he contemplated asking her to the ball. _She'd never say yes. She thinks I'm a freak and a dark wizard_, Harry thought despondently.

"She was quite good-looking," said Ron fairly, after she'd rounded the corner.

"She was a bit… er… well, she seemed rather… um, snobby," Neville said quietly.

"That's Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. She's a fifth year," Harry said, a light blush covering his cheeks. He'd admired her from afar for some time, but whenever he caught her eye in the hallways, she'd always reacted poorly, usually cringing in fear and hurrying away. And on one extremely humiliating occasion when he'd accidentally bumped into her as she was coming out of the loo a month ago, Cho had yelped in terror and gone running back inside the girl's toilet. He'd stayed far away from her since.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Harry said, morosely. "McGonagall says I have to have a partner. And I have to dance! She's barmy if she thinks I'm going to go out there in front of everybody and not trip over my own feet." The three boys started up the nearby staircase on their way to Gryffindor tower.

"I think you should ask someone you're comfortable with. Someone who's already your friend," Neville said. He looked uncomfortable as Ron and Harry turned to him suddenly, flushing and clutching his robes in his hand. "Er… I just think that… um… perhaps it'd be easier if you went with a friend. Sorry, Harry, but… it's just… I know a lot of girls kind of… um…"

As Neville's voice fell off in an embarrassed mumble, Harry frowned and thought about what Neville couldn't seem to say – that most any girl he tried to ask would be afraid of him because they thought he was a dark wizard and believed Skeeter's articles. _But who the bloody hell am I friends with that I can ask_? Harry thought. He turned to Ron to see what he thought, but his best mate shook his head when he looked at him.

"No way, mate. I'm your friend, but there's no bloody way I'm going as your date to the ball," Ron said. He and Neville started laughing as Harry snorted and punched his shoulder. But Harry's head shot up as he realized something, and he looked at Ron again, wondering what his best mate would say.

"What?" Ron asked as his laughter wound down.

"I think… I think I know who I can ask, but…" Harry chewed his lip as he thought about it. She was his friend, she was someone he'd become very comfortable around, and they had a lot in common. And he knew for a fact that she didn't think of him as a dark wizard. _But what will Ron say?_

"C'mon Harry, who is it?" Ron asked. Neville looked on eagerly as Harry ruffled his hair.

"Er… she's just a friend, but… I think I can ask Ginny," Harry said. He tensed as he waited for Ron's reaction.

Ron looked startled at first, scrunching his face up and looking bewildered. Then he shrugged and started back up the stairs, Neville and Harry trailing behind him.

"Fine with me. She can't go anyway unless someone asks her, as she's just a third year. Dunno why you'd want to go with my little sister, but she'd probably say yes," Ron called back over his shoulder.

Ron's long strides took him up the stairs quickly, as Neville and Harry climbed at a slower pace. Harry was still thinking about asking Ginny to the ball, worrying if she'd say yes, and if it was even a good idea.

"I think you should. Ask Ginny, I mean," Neville said quietly. Harry turned to him, seeing a light pink flush on Neville's cheeks. The shy boy shrugged a little, fiddling with his robes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean… she's pretty. And she's very funny. And, er… y'know, with everything both of you have to deal with all the time, she'd probably understand you better than most girls would. You guys have gone through a lot together," Neville said, catching the edge of the Fat Lady's portrait before it slammed behind Ron's lanky frame.

As Neville entered the common room, Harry frowned in thought, and then climbed in behind him. He saw Ginny sitting with Hermione at their usual study table, leaning over to dig through her book bag. As she sat up in her chair and tossed her long hair over her shoulder, Harry looked at her as he slowly crossed the room.

_She is pretty. Guess I never really noticed that before_, Harry thought. S_he's always making me laugh. And she's a good friend. Plus, she knows as much about Quidditch as Ron does._

Gathering his Gryffindor courage, Harry walked over to stand by Ginny's chair.

"Er, Ginny? Could I, um… could I talk to you for a second? Over here?" Harry asked, pointing towards a quiet corner.

Ginny looked startled for a moment, then nodded and followed behind him as he walked away from the table a bit.

_This is better, anyway. I'll probably have more fun with someone who's a good friend_, Harry thought as he took a deep breath and met her eyes.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_January 4, 1995_

_Hogwarts_

"Oh, wow Ginny! I can't believe I missed the Yule Ball. I heard Dean Thomas talking about it and it sounded wicked. But you got to go, didn't you? And with Harry Potter! Was it fun? Did you have a good time?"

Ginny grinned a little at Colin's enthusiasm as they walked to class on the first day back from Christmas break. Care of Magical Creatures was going to be bitterly cold that day, so she pulled out her wand and cast a warming charm around her and her friend as they stepped out the front doors. Colin stopped talking a moment, and smiled brightly at her.

"Thanks, Ginny! I always forget I can do that now," Colin said cheerfully.

"You're welcome, Colin. And yes, I went with Harry. We had a good time, for the most part. How was your Christmas?" Ginny said. She let her mind wander a bit as Colin described his Christmas at home with his muggle parents and little brother Dennis. Ginny's face grew warm despite the chilly temperatures and brisk wind as she remembered her dream from the night before.

It had started as a lovely recreation of the Yule Ball, dancing around the floor with Harry. He was a bit more suave and light on his feet in her dream than in real life, but both Harrys had made her feel warm and safe while she was in his arms. The dream was even nicer though, because there were no sneering looks of disdain from the Slytherins, no frightful glances and whispers from the other students.

The dream had shifted, bringing her to the end of the night where Harry had given her a hug and thanked her for going to the ball with him. But her dream-Harry hadn't walked away to the boys' dorm after the hug. Instead…

Ginny shivered and raised her mitten-covered hand to her lips. She could almost still feel the press of Harry's lips against hers as he'd kissed her. Heat flooded her stomach and gave her a pleasantly lethargic feeling in her limbs as she recalled the way his hands had slid down her back to her bum, cupping it in his palms and drawing her nearer to his body. His thumbs had circled around and lightly brushed over her stomach and hips, and he kept kissing her over and over, until he pulled back and whispered her name.

"_Ginny."_

Ginny bit her lip, silently cursing the fact that she'd woken up just then, roused from her sleep to find her blankets tangled around her legs, her thighs clenching together to try and relieve the ache inside of her. She had blushed heavily, thankfully hidden behind her bed curtains where no one could see. She'd had dreams before of Harry kissing her, but this was the first time one had been so explicit and left her feeling like this – breathless and waiting for… something.

"Ginny, are you okay?"

Colin's concerned voice shook her out of her daydreams, and Ginny looked over to see that Luna had joined them and they'd somehow made it all the way over to the paddock behind Hagrid's hut to join the rest of their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw classmates.

Ginny shook her head, trying to lose the left-over feelings from her dream. _You've got to stop this, Ginevra_, she told herself harshly. _Harry's just your friend. Besides, he spent half the night gawping at Cho bloody Chang._ She scoffed at her own thoughts and turned back to her friends.

"Hello Ginny. It's a wonderful day today. I think the nargles have all run off from the cold," Luna said, gazing up at the cloudy, overcast sky. "Oh look. Unicorns."

Ginny looked across the paddock and saw an older woman with closely cropped gray hair leading several unicorns towards their class. _Who…? Where's Hagrid?_

"Where's Hagrid?" Colin asked, glancing around towards his hut.

Ginny scowled as she remembered that morning's _Daily Prophet_. Skeeter had been at it again, discussing the Yule Ball in great detail. The _Prophet's_ article had taken several digs at Harry and Ginny attending the ball together, going so far as to suggest they were using it to try and fool people into thinking they were 'innocent, fun-loving children, just like everyone else.' Her mind skittered past the other horrible things that were said about her, including several insults at her dress robes, and she remembered what Skeeter had said about Hagrid.

"It's probably because of that bloody awful article that cow Skeeter wrote this morning," Ginny said quietly. "She told everyone that Hagrid is a half-giant. Who knows what kind of mail he got after everyone read it."

The new professor waved the class closer to the railings, and Ginny and her two friends moved over to see the unicorns. Ginny smiled at seeing the beautiful creatures and she was utterly charmed when one came up and nosed against her palm. She laughed a little and tugged off her mitten so she could feel its soft muzzle as the gray-haired woman, now revealing herself as Professor Grubbly-Plank, lectured to them about the unicorn's habitats.

Harsh whispers from a few feet away drew her attention from the animal, and she glanced over to see her roommates looking between her and the unicorn. She lowered her head and drew her hand back, watching the unicorn step to the side a little to where Luna was holding out her hand. She swallowed hard against the sudden tightening of her throat. Colin noticed her glance, and looked over at Vicky and Demelza, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face.

"What are those two busybodies harping on now?" Colin whispered as he stood behind the two girls.

"Who knows… they're probably coming up with some new awful thing I'm supposed to have done. Perhaps they think I've used my dark magic to taint the unicorn or something. They're idiots," Ginny said with a shrug. She'd become used to the things her roommates said about her all the time. "It doesn't bother me anymore, Colin." _It doesn't_, she told herself firmly.

"Unicorns are powerful magical creatures and they're drawn to those with pure hearts. And they like apples," Luna said airily. She reached into her bag and drew out a few small, wrinkled crabapples, handing one to Ginny. The unicorn snuffled out, raising Ginny's fringe a little, before delicately taking the apple from the palm of her hand.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_June 3, 1995_

_**Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley:**_

_**Disturbed and Dangerous Duo Run Rampant at Hogwarts!**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Over the years, the _Daily Prophet_ has maintained that there was something dark and dangerous lurking in the emerald green eyes of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Since the end of his first year, where he was at least partially responsible for the death of his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Mr. Potter has had strange occurrences surround him._

_To add to this mystery, his involvement with Miss Ginevra Weasley, Slytherin's Mistress, has led to further attacks and destruction. Miss Weasley was responsible for attacking animals and Muggleborns alike in her association with a dark power that was rumored to be connected to You-Know-Who himself._

_The latest events surrounding this dark duo are more astounding than ever before. Mr. Potter has become unstable and even more dangerous, regularly collapsing at school in fits, only to wake up complaining of pain in the scar on his forehead (a relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him)._

_It has come to our attention that just last Monday, midway through a Divination lesson, Potter stormed from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying. It is possible, according to top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack so many years ago._

_In addition, the ease with which Potter has breezed through the Tri-Wizard Tournament shows a vast knowledge of spells and wizardry, far beyond his 14 years. What knowledge and dark magic was possibly transferred on the day Mr. Potter got that scar? Experts cannot say, but these attacks and his many dangerous outbursts and attacks cast doubt upon his suitability to compete in a Tournament against others who might get in his way. It is even highly questionable if he should be allowed to attend Hogwarts School all together. His close friendship with Slytherin's Mistress, along with dark creatures like werewolves and giants, can only further drive him towards the darkness that he so obviously craves._

_Ginevra Weasley is the other half of this dark and dangerous duo. She, too, shouldn't be allowed to attend Hogwarts alongside upright and innocent children. Her attacks on her fellow students during her first year show a clearly disturbed young woman, who sought knowledge and power beyond her years from a very young age._

_These two by themselves are quite prone to violent happenings, but together they become truly a danger to all Wizarding kind._

_This reporter took it upon herself to seek out these two to try and learn the truth from their own mouths in an exclusive interview. Something that has always been denied by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the Weasley family previously. What I received instead was astounding and frightening beyond anything experienced since the dark times of the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_On January 16, the Hogwarts students were let out for a Hogsmeade weekend. I endeavored to seek the couple out in a public environment, hoping that the presence of others would stave off their usual violent reactions. This was in vain, however._

_When approached, Weasley became dangerously red in the face even before any words were exchanged. Slytherin's Mistress obviously has problems with her temper, and is used to unleashing it upon her helpless victims. Potter, on the other hand, looked coldly cruel, betraying almost no emotion as I asked for an interview. After only a few words, the dangerous duo had to be restrained by their constant companions, Weasley's brother, Ronald Weasley, and the other female, Hermione Granger. Oddly enough, Miss Granger was one of the Muggleborn students attacked by Miss Weasley in her first year. Is Granger under some dark enchantment? Many have commented on Miss Granger's obvious intelligence. Are the dangerous duo using her to further their search of knowledge regarding dark magic?_

_Regardless, before too many words were exchanged, their 'friends' removed them from the vicinity, obviously taking them elsewhere in an effort to keep them from harming this reporter in front of so many witnesses._

_Why does Albus Dumbledore continue to protect these two highly unstable students? Why does the Ministry of Magic not step in and do something before another witch or wizard is harmed, or even killed?_

_  
This reporter will continue searching for the truth in an effort to protect and serve the Wizarding public of Britain._

_(For full biographies of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley, see pages 3 to 7 in today's _Daily Prophet_.)_


	2. Chapter 1: Tumbling

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended._

_**A/N:**__ There are parts of it that are lifted straight from the books. All rights and kudos for those go to JKR. I'm just using them to twist her story around a bit. Many, many thanks to E and M for being my Beta Queens._

**Chapter 1: Tumbling**

_June 24, 1995_

_Hogwarts Infirmary_

Harry woke up, so warm, so very sleepy, that he didn't open his eyes, wanting to drop off again. The room was still dimly lit; he was sure it was still nighttime and had a feeling that he couldn't have been asleep very long. There was a slight weight to his right, dipping the bed down, and a warm, soft pressure against his right hand.

Then he heard whispering around him. It came like a fog into his mind, mumbled words slowly resolving into hissed reprimands, which made Harry open his eyes blearily. Someone had removed his glasses, but he could see the fuzzy outlines of Mrs. Weasley and Bill close by. He rolled his head to the right to see what was nearby, and saw a tousled head of red hair resting on the mattress near his hand.

"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs. Weasley whispered. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?"

Now Harry could hear them too: people shouting and running toward the hospital wing. Fudge's loud voice yelling for Dumbledore and…

"…that reprobate, Harry Potter! Where is he?" roared Fudge. Even through the thick stone walls of Hogwarts, his voice was heard clearly in the hospital wing. Harry's stomach churned as the effects of the dreamless sleep potion wore off.

Harry turned his head back to see Mrs. Weasley on her feet near the entrance to the screens surrounding his bed. Bill was standing beside her, with Ron and Hermione crowding behind. They were all staring at the closed hospital doors, and didn't notice as Harry reached over for his glasses and put them back on.

Harry rolled to the right, away from the commotion at the door. Bright brown eyes met his, as Ginny raised her head and ran her fingers through her hair. Neither of them said a word, but Ginny's hand crept across the mattress and she lightly brushed the tips of his fingers with hers. Her eyes shone with compassion, but he could see the fear hiding behind.

"Tom's back?" she mouthed, her voice the merest hint of a whisper in the air.

Harry could only nod.

They both jumped as the hospital doors slammed open, and Fudge came striding into the ward, Professors McGonagall and Snape at his heels. Bill pulled back the screens a little, and Harry could just barely see Fudge's face, purple with rage.

"Where are Dumbledore and Potter?" Fudge demanded.

"Dumbledore's not here and Harry is sleeping," said Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think–"

But the door flew open again, and Dumbledore came sweeping up the ward.

"What has happened?" said Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall.

Harry's mind wavered as Dumbledore, Fudge, and McGonagall argued about Barty Crouch's evident demise, and he closed his eyes wearily, instantly seeing Voldemort's hideous face leering at him cruelly. His eyes snapped back open as Dumbledore announced that Voldemort had been restored to his body. _Surely the Minister will believe Dumbledore, especially after Cedric… _Harry's mind stopped right there, pushing away the image of Cedric's face as he lay spread-eagled on the ground.

He craned his neck around just in time to see Fudge's dumbfounded reaction. Fudge stared at Dumbledore as if the aged Headmaster was mad.

"You-Know-Who… returned? Preposterous! Simply mad, Dumbledore… Crouch was a lunatic, and may have _believed_ himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders, but it's obvious to anyone who is actually responsible for this disaster!" said Fudge. "That boy's hands are all over this! You're prepared to take Potter's word on this? When he's been proven to be a highly disturbed and dangerous young man!"

"You've been reading Rita Skeeter's articles, Mr. Fudge," Harry said angrily. He was seething inside, his breathing harsh as he glared at the Minister.

Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Bill all jumped and spun around. None of them had realized that Harry was awake.

Fudge stepped towards Harry's bed, but was brought up short by Sirius' low growling. His hackles were raised, and he was baring his teeth at Fudge. The Minister stopped and blanched at the sight of the large dog. Fudge took in Ginny sitting next to the bed, and his face turned cold and hard when he stared at Harry.

"And if I have?" Fudge said defiantly. "Those articles are the only reason we know the truth about you and that… that girl!"

Ginny shot up from her chair before Harry could respond, her lips thinned in anger, her eyes flashing as her small hands fisted in the sheets.

"The truth about us? You call that _truth_? Skeeter has printed nothing but lies in that rag you call a newspaper," Ginny hissed out.

"So you deny that you were the one responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets? For unleashing a basilisk upon the students of this school as Slytherin's Mistress?" Fudge responded. His eyes gleamed in triumph when Ginny's face went pale and she stumbled back into her chair.

Harry scrambled for his wand, dimly hearing Mrs. Weasley and Hermione gasping in outrage and shock. His mind was beyond reason as his chest heaved in rage. Shouting erupted around the hospital wing, but he ignored it. Harry's focus was only on getting his wand and hexing that man for what he said to Ginny. He had just grasped it from the bedside table when a small hand circled his wrist, freezing him in place.

The chaos surrounding them continued in shouts and hurled accusations, but Harry's eyes were caught by Ginny's. Her face was pale, with mottled spots of dark red on her cheeks. Her jaw was firm, however, and he watched her sit up straight, raising her chin in defiance as she shook her head. Harry understood what she meant. _It won't do any good right now. He'll never believe a word we say. We're tainted in his eyes._

"ENOUGH!" A loud bang shocked the room into silence, and Dumbledore lowered his wand. The Headmaster was radiating with power, his eyes blazing as he rounded on Fudge.

"Listen to me, Cornelius. Harry is not responsible for tonight's events. Nor is Miss Weasley responsible for what happened two years ago. Voldemort has returned. If you accept that fact straightaway and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation," said Dumbledore.

Fudge stepped back from Dumbledore, but his stubborn look of anger remained and he jabbed a finger at the Headmaster's chest.

"I have given you free rein, Dumbledore, to run Hogwarts as you see fit. Yet ever since Potter showed up, this school has become dangerous. Students and teachers turning up dead! Convicted murderers escaping justice! And each time, the only person around is Potter," Fudge snarled. "Between Potter and that Weasley girl, I'm surprised more haven't been killed. And there is absolutely no proof that You-Know-Who is back!"

Snape, who until now remained quiet and still in the background, strode forward, pulling up his left sleeve as he shoved through the crowd. He stuck his forearm out and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled in horror.

"There is your proof," said Snape harshly. "The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Proof, indeed, that the Dark Lord has returned."

Fudge stared at the mark on Snape's arm, shaking his head in disbelief and disgust. Stepping back, he glared at Dumbledore.

"I don't know what you and your staff are up to, but I've heard and seen enough. As far as I'm concerned, Crouch was a lunatic. You-Know-Who is dead. I will be in touch very soon, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school," Fudge said, swinging around to point at Harry. "And you! I have no proof right now, but I know you had some part in the Diggory boy's death."

Fudge stepped backwards, edging away from the glares and hostility coming at him from every person in the room. He reached into his pocket and removed a large bag, tossing it to the floor.

"There! Your winnings, Potter. One thousand Galleons. As you were the only one to return with the cup alive, it seems you won the Triwizard Tournament," Fudge said harshly.

Cramming his bowler hat on his head, Fudge stomped out, slamming the hospital doors behind him. The moment he left, Dumbledore took a deep breath, and then turned to the assembled adults and started sending them off. Harry tried to follow the ebb and flow of people leaving the ward, but his anger was slowly being overwhelmed by everything he'd shoved aside earlier.

_Cedric is dead and Voldemort is back. And I'm responsible… it's my fault._

The thoughts swirled in his mind. He raised his head enough to protest Sirius leaving so soon, but once he was gone all he could feel was the guilt and fear. Ginny's hand clamped down a little harder on his wrist, and Harry looked up to see the room empty, save Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny at his side. Ron and Hermione watched him for only a moment before they looked away, moving to pick up all the gold that had spilled out of the bag Fudge had dropped on the floor.

Mrs. Weasley bustled around, straightening his covers and urging him to take the remainder of his sleeping potion. The burning in his chest moved up and into his eyes, and Harry stared at the ceiling, fighting against the prickling sensation that he could feel swarming over him.

"Here Harry," Hermione said softly, putting the bag on his bed with a muted clang of metal.

Harry stared at it. It was blood money. He wanted no part of it. He blinked his eyes again and again, trying to stop the burning. But it only got worse as a weight pressed on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"I don't want that," Harry croaked out. "It should have been Cedric's. He should have won."

"Harry, dear… it wasn't your fault," Mrs. Weasley whispered.

"I told him..." His throat burned and he had to swallow again and again to keep it from closing. "I told him to take the cup with me. He told me to take it myself, but I convinced him to take it with me. And… and then he died."

Mrs. Weasley set down the potion bottle, and then leaned down and wrapped her arms around Harry. The weight of everything he'd seen that night pressed down on him until he thought he couldn't breathe as Mrs. Weasley held him. He'd never been held like this, as though by a mother. Harry closed his eyes, and his chest heaved as he fought the waves of grief pounding through him. He could feel it burning to get out, and he scrabbled against the blankets with his hands. His left hand turned white at the knuckles as he held on. His right hand found Ginny's, and he clutched it hard, feeling her squeezing back.

A gasp and a loud slamming noise startled Harry and he pulled away from Mrs. Weasley. Hermione was standing with her head sticking out of the open window, moaning "no" over and over.

"Your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. She stood up straight and held out the bottle.

Harry grabbed it and swallowed the potion in one gulp. His head fell back against the pillows and waves of lethargy instantly made his arms and legs feel heavy. But as the potion took him away into a dreamless sleep, he could still feel a small, warm hand holding on to him.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_June 26, 1995_

_**Hogwarts Champion Killed in Triwizard Tournament!**_

_**Potter Emerges from Final Task with Student's Dead Body!**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_In a shocking end to the year-long Tournament, the Final Task culminated with Harry Potter returning to the edge of the maze clutching the Triwizard Cup and Cedric Diggory's dead body. Shouts and the horrified screams of Diggory's parents echoed across the grounds, while Potter garbled out nonsensical excuses as to how poor young Cedric met his untimely death._

_Diggory, once a handsome seventh year Hufflepuff student, was the original Hogwarts champion before Potter somehow connived his way into the tournament. Many believe that Potter used dark magic to fool the Goblet of Fire into choosing him as a fourth champion. However new evidence has come to light that shows Potter did not work alone._

_Barty Crouch, Jr., convicted as a Death Eater in the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, had apparently escaped Azkaban at some point in the recent past. Working under the misguided belief that his master, You-Know-Who, was still alive, Crouch, Jr. accosted the former Auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody and took his place using polyjuice potion as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts._

_It is unknown why Crouch, Jr. used a Confundus Charm to aid Potter in entering the tournament. What is known are the results – while Delacour and Krum, the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions, were removed from the maze early in the evening, only Diggory and Potter made it to the middle where the Triwizard Cup was placed. And only Potter emerged alive._

_I spoke with Cedric's bereaved parents, and Amos Diggory had this to say through heart-broken sobs of grief, "My boy… my boy is dead! And this Potter… my son defended him in the past! Told people he wasn't a bad sort and just look… look what he did to my son!" Mr. Diggory was unable to continue the interview at this point, broken with sorrow and confusion at the horrible death of his son. _

_Mrs. Diggory only offered this before ushering her husband back into their home near Ottery St. Catchpole, "I do not know whose wand is responsible for killing my son. I only know that the school nurse said he was killed with the Avada Kedavra, and that the last person to see him alive was Potter. Our only son is gone, and we want to know why! Cedric was a good boy! He didn't deserve this!"_

_What happened that night in the maze? Potter is claiming that he was portkeyed away to some dark ritual where You-Know-Who regained his body, and that Peter Pettigrew was responsible for killing young Cedric. Pettigrew is famous for being murdered in 1981 by Sirius Black, and was awarded the Order of Merlin posthumously. This deranged explanation of events was believed by Headmaster Dumbledore, but Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge denies this obviously ludicrous excuse. _

"_Potter is deranged. You-Know-Who back? Peter Pettigrew alive and a Death Eater? That's madness! It's obvious that the years spent living with Muggles have tainted the boy somehow. Perhaps it's that scar of his – even the healers don't know how much of You-Know-Who's power might have gone into that scar," said Minister Fudge._

_So what happened to young Cedric Diggory? Crouch, Jr., while obviously guilty of many crimes, was seen posing as Professor Moody during the entire time Potter was in the maze. But Potter's whereabouts after touching the Cup are unknown, and no evidence was found that anyone else entered or left the grounds. What happened during that missing time period? How did Diggory die?_

_Potter's dark past during his years at Hogwarts does not aid in his claims of innocence. Is Cedric Diggory the latest to fall victim to Potter? When will the Ministry hold Mr. Potter accountable for his actions? The _Daily Prophet_ hopes that Cedric Diggory's death will serve at least one purpose – to finally wake the Wizarding world to the danger of Harry Potter._

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_July 30, 1995_

_Grimmauld Place_

"Here's your tea, Albus."

Dumbledore focused his eyes back on the table as a steaming cup was placed before him. He curled his hands around it, and watched the leaves settle on the bottom, idly hoping they'd give him some hint of what was to come. _Alas, no such luck._

"Thank you, Molly," he said. Dumbledore lifted the delicate cup and took a sip of the hot liquid, watching as Molly settled into a seat next to her husband. The kitchen at Grimmauld Place was dark and gloomy, but he could clearly make out the anxious faces of the few Order members that were arranged around the table. Molly and Arthur sat on side of the table. Across from them were Sirius, Remus, and Nymphadora Tonks. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the looks being exchanged between the young Auror and the werewolf.

"Now, as for why I've called you all here," Dumbledore said, setting his cup back on the saucer. "I know all of you have been reading the _Prophet_, and I am as disturbed as any of you at the increasingly negative sentiments shown towards Harry and Miss Weasley."

Molly's face turned red at the reminder of what the _Prophet _had been printing all summer, and Arthur clenched his hands around his glass and stared down at the table. They had tried very hard to shield their only daughter from the comments and articles written about her, but it was difficult to hide every copy of the newspaper. Sirius swore loudly and it was a testament to Molly's distress that she didn't scold the man for his comment.

"Nymphadora," Dumbledore said. "I understand you have heard something important?"

"I have, Professor," the pink-haired Auror said, grimacing at the use of her first name. "I've been working mostly with Kingsley lately, but I, er… stumbled by a table when I was delivering a report to the Minister's office and I heard Umbridge talking to someone. She, um…"

Dumbledore saw her cut her eyes to Molly and Arthur, and hastened to reassure her.

"Yes, Nymphadora? What did you hear?" he said quietly.

"Well, she was talking about Azkaban and asked… this person to retrieve a copy of all the prison guides that the Auror's have. Those guides have all the spells we use to secure Azkaban, the wards, the dementor spells… everything. Per- er… the person said they'd get them to her today," Tonks said, watching the Weasley's out of the corner of her eye.

Arthur's face hardened at hearing the report. It was obvious that he knew who Umbridge had spoken to. Dumbledore hated to bring any more pain to the Weasley's but he had to confirm the identity of the person who spoke to Umbridge.

"Who was it that Dolores was speaking to?"

"Percy," Tonks said, with an apologetic look to the other side of the table.

Molly gasped and pushed herself away from the table, striding to the stove to retrieve the tea pot. She busied herself refilling everyone's cups, her face bright red as she sniffled loudly.

"Molly," Arthur said quietly, putting his hand on his wife's arm. "Please…"

With a forlorn sigh, Molly sat back down. Dumbledore nodded to Tonks, and then turned to Arthur.

"Have you heard anything, Arthur?" he asked kindly. He hated to move so quickly, not allowing them a moment to themselves, but he knew he had to decide soon.

"I've not heard anything, Albus," Arthur said. "Most in the Ministry avoid speaking around me ever since…"

Dumbledore nodded as Arthur's voice trailed off. He knew Arthur had little to no contact or presence in the inner-workings of the Ministry ever since Rita Skeeter's campaign against his daughter. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, trying to shuffle all the pieces around to find a picture that made sense.

_Ah._

It was the only thing that would make sense, with everything he had heard about Dolores' recent meetings and the increasing amount of time Lucius Malfoy spent in the Minister's office.

"We need to assemble a team to remove Harry from Privet Drive. I had hoped to keep him there longer, as it is the safest place for him. But it appears we have no choice," Dumbledore said. His eyes sought out Sirius immediately as the dark-haired man looked up. "But not you, Sirius. We cannot risk someone from the Ministry seeing you."

Sirius slumped back in his chair, his long black hair covering his face as he mumbled angrily. Albus sighed and looked to Remus.

"Remus, I want you to put together a small group of Order members. I will ask Alastor to accompany you. I want you to retrieve Harry on Sunday. Perhaps early in the morning to avoid upsetting Dursley's," he said.

"The day after his birthday?" Remus asked quietly.

"Indeed. The sooner he is removed and brought here under the Fidelius, the better, I believe. Alastor will be in contact with you shortly," Dumbledore said. He stood from the table and everyone wished him a good evening. He quickly left the Order's headquarters, apparating to Hogsmeade to make the walk back to Hogwarts.

The stars above were bright in the late July sky, and Dumbledore stared up at them for a moment. The report from Nymphadora tied in far too well to the reports he'd received from Kingsley and others at the Ministry. Dolores Umbridge's interest in Azkaban and the spells that controlled the dementors worried him greatly. As did the comments from those in the Order assigned to watch over Harry while he was at Privet Drive.

Dumbledore quickly made the walk down to the Hogwarts gates. _Yes, removing him from the Dursleys is for the best_, he thought. He knew Harry's letters had grown increasingly angry, as he sought answers from his friends. And the last time he'd reminded Harry's friends not to say anything important in their letters, Dumbledore was certain that young Miss Weasley had been only moments away from hexing him in anger. _Perhaps bringing Harry to Grimmauld Place earlier than expected would be best for everyone._

Dumbledore sighed as the gargoyle opened to let him into his office. There were too many balls to juggle. Too much to do in such a short time. And he still had yet to find someone suitable for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Wearily sitting behind his desk, he continued his work long into the night.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_August 2, 1995_

_Grimmauld Place_

Ginny watched from her seat on Harry's bed as he stormed around the bedroom. She'd been waiting for this explosion ever since he'd arrived yesterday. But Moody's paranoia caused Harry to have to fly from Little Whinging to London in the early morning hours, and he'd slept for most of the day before brooding the rest of the evening. This morning's reprieve from housecleaning left a wide open field for Harry's anger.

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH!"

Harry's rage poured out of him, screaming and furious after being bottled up for so long. Ginny thought he rather needed to get this all out, but it really wasn't fair to take it out on Ron and Hermione. As it was, Hermione looked like she was on the brink of tears.

"BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

Harry's glare cut through all three of them. Ron shuffled his feet and looked away nervously, and Hermione sniffled as she tried to hold back tears and explain their situation.

Once his initial anger was expended, Harry paced up and down the room, furiously barking out questions. Ron and Hermione tried their best to quickly answer each one, but their responses were superficial at best. None of them really knew much at all about what the Order was doing, or what Voldemort was up to.

Ginny remained silent. She was silent a lot these days. Tom's return had brought a host of emotions crashing down on her after the initial few days of shock wore off. After they took up residence at Grimmauld Place, the long stretches of hours with nothing to do but clean left her plenty of time to think. And remember.

The dual cracks of apparition made her jump, and Ginny glared at her brothers. They'd been apparating everywhere in the house now that they'd passed their tests. _Lazy gits._

"Harrykins," George said, smiling widely. "We thought we heard your dulcet tones."

"Indeed. You don't want to hold all that anger in, Harry. It gives you bad skin and indigestion," Fred said, his smile mirroring his twin's. "Let it out a bit. Give it a bit of stretching room."

"Breathing room."

"Growing room."

"Like this room!" Speaking in tandem, the twins plopped down heavily on either side of Ginny, throwing their arms around her shoulders and squeezing her between them. She squirmed, trying to get away, but even though Fred and George were short like she was, their stocky build outweighed her by quite a bit. Sighing heavily, she gave up trying to escape.

"Why hello, little sister," George said, leaning his head against hers.

"Why so glum, short stuff? You've been quiet far too much this summer," Fred said, leaning his head against the other side.

The twins had been trying to cheer her up ever since they arrived at Headquarters. _They really are my favorite brothers at times._

"Truly! You should be happy now. After all, Harry is here," George said with a sigh, swooning dramatically against her. His weight pushed her into Fred, who swooned as well, squishing her further between them.

_And at other times…_

With a growl, Ginny reached out with both hands and pinched each twin's inner thigh, making them jump back with startled curses. Once they moved, she shoved their arms off and stood up, moving over to lean against the wall by the wardrobe.

Sliding back towards each other on the bed, the twins turned their attention back to Harry. Ginny continued in her silent observation, as they filled him in on Snape's involvement in the Order, and Percy's defection from the family.

Percy. Even thinking the name made her want to hiss angrily as she remembered his departure and the things he'd said about their dad's reputation. But the final insult had been when Percy brought up her family's continued loyalty to Dumbledore and Harry. Ginny remembered clearly the feeling of extreme anger when Percy had dared to insinuate that he believed Skeeter's articles about Harry being responsible for Cedric's death.

That had hurt. Especially after all the lies and accusations that Skeeter had printed about Ginny, for Percy to believe the Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_ over his own family…

She wasn't quite sure that she would ever trust Percy again.

Shaking her head, Ginny turned her attention back to the room, only to find that she and Harry were the last ones left. She frowned and glanced around, but it appeared that the others had walked off at some point.

_Merlin, I need to stop living in my head so much._

"Hey Gin," Harry said, leaning back against the headboard of his bed and stretching out his legs.

He'd gotten taller over the summer, she noticed. While Harry would never be as tall as Ron, he had gained several inches since she'd last seen him. _And apparently a few inches across as well_, she thought, eyeing his broadening chest with a quick glance.

"Did you get it all out?" she asked him, finally breaking her silence.

"Get all what out?" he replied warily. His face was still guarded, and she refused to look away as he stared her down. The fact that his brooding looks actually made him more handsome irked her, and she scowled at his stubbornness.

"All the yelling and screaming you've apparently wanted to do for awhile," Ginny said.

Harry folded his arms tightly across his chest, and looked belligerently back at her.

"Thanks for the letters, by the way. They were so _very_ informative," Harry said sarcastically.

Ginny gritted her teeth, her temper almost getting away from her before she stifled it. She knew he wasn't angry with her, and as much as she wanted to bite back, it wouldn't help the situation. Breathing deeply, Ginny shoved away from the wall and walked over to stand by the end of his bed. This close to him, she could see the dark circles under his eyes that bespoke of many restless nights. _As bad as mine are, I can't imagine how horrific his nightmares might be. _

"I actually did write you, Harry," Ginny finally said. "But Mum caught the first one I was trying to send out with Pig, and tossed it in the fire after she read it. She said it was too dangerous and that the owls might get intercepted."

A muffled snort of derision was his only answer as he rolled his head to the side to stare at the wall.

"When I tried the second time and she caught me again, Mum charmed all my parchment so that the owls wouldn't go near it. And she made the others promise not to give me any more," Ginny said with a shrug. "I was a bit brassed off at them, as you might imagine."

This finally got a low chuckle from Harry, and he turned back to look at her.

"You might need to work on your sneaking techniques a little, Gin, if your mum is able to catch you so easily," he said with a little grin.

"Yes, well you might be right about that, but you need to stop taking your anger out on Ron and Hermione. Because it wasn't their fault that you weren't told anything this summer," Ginny said. She stared him down until he sighed and nodded, turning his face up towards the ceiling.

Ginny shoved his feet over and sat down on the foot of the bed, pulling her knees up and wrapping her arms around them. She studied his face as he sat there lost in thought. Ginny's sleep that summer had been sporadic at best. She'd experienced a heart-wrenching mix of nightmares about Tom and the Chamber, interspersed with the occasional dream about Harry. But not all of her dreams about Harry were nightmares.

She'd worked hard to get over her more obvious reactions to Harry, hiding her feelings for him behind a quick wit and an even quicker temper. Ever since they'd attended the Yule Ball together last Christmas, they'd grown even closer as friends. They'd spent many evenings with Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor Tower just talking, usually coming up with some new way to make Skeeter pay for all the things she'd written about the two of them.

But through it all, Ginny hadn't been able to completely shut away how she felt about Harry. And it was starting to leak into her dreams more and more, to her utter annoyance. Just last night, in fact, Harry's arrival at Grimmauld Place had sparked a dream that had woken her at 3 am, sweaty and aching, driving her to the shower where she'd done something she'd never done before.

Just thinking about it now made her shiver and blush in memory, and she bit her lip as she tried to will the redness away.

The door slammed open, startling Ginny and making her curse under her breath as she almost fell off the bed. She glanced over to see Ron looking a little nervous, as if he wasn't sure of the reception he'd receive.

"C'mon you two! Mum's got lunch all ready and she wants us down there. Says she's got more chores for us after we eat," Ron said.

Grumbling, Ginny stood up from the bed, shoving Harry's legs off as she went. She had just reached the doorway when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking back, Ginny saw Harry grimace a bit then shrug.

"Thanks, Gin. For... y'know," Harry said quietly.

"Anytime you need a kick in the trousers, Harry, you know who to come to," Ginny replied with a smirk.

Harry chuckled, and then followed the two Weasley's down into the gloomy Grimmauld kitchen.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_August 6, 1995_

_Ministry of Magic_

Percy dipped his eagle feather quill in ink, and finished off the last sentence of his report. He sat back and rubbed his aching neck, slowly rereading everything he'd written. Nodding his head sharply, Percy wiped down his quill and set it on his desk, smoothing it out until it lay parallel with his ink tray.

He stood up and straightened his robes while waiting for the parchment to dry sufficiently. Checking his watch, Percy was pleased with his day's work. He knew he served an important function in the well-oiled machine that was the Ministry, and this report was one that Senior Undersecretary Umbridge hadn't been expecting until Monday. He rolled up the parchment and tapped it with his wand to seal it.

Pushing his glasses back up with one finger, Percy strode quickly out of his office and down the hall to deliver his report early. He knew the Minister and Madam Umbridge depended on him greatly. And this report detailing the Ministry's laws on criminal acts and the recommended methods of punishment was one that she had requested he work on with all due haste. Percy was working closely with important people. It was just a shame that his family was too blinded by their loyalty to Dumbledore to see that.

Knocking on an office just down the hall from his, he entered at hearing Madam Umbridge call "come in."

"Senior Undersecretary? I have that report you requested. It wasn't due until Monday, but I finished early and thought you would want to review it over the weekend," Percy said pompously.

As Umbridge took the report and glanced through it, an Auror in scarlet robes walked in, standing stiffly next to her desk. Percy glanced at the man, but dismissed him as no one important to his work with the higher echelons of the Ministry.

"Auror Dawlish, I am pleased to see you here. Please, take a seat. Weasley, you may go. Thank you for completing this in a timely fashion," Umbridge said, waving Percy out of her office.

Percy frowned as the Auror sat down. He hadn't expected to be dismissed so quickly, and had hoped to discuss his findings in more depth in case Madam Umbridge had questions. But he nodded at her, and walked to the door. Perhaps she would want to speak to him next week after she'd had time to study his findings.

Just after he stepped into the hallway, the Auror began to speak.

"It's not going to work, Umbridge," Dawlish said. "I've had a report from the handler and it appears Potter has left Privet Drive for good this summer. We have no idea where he went, but he hasn't been seen all week. The dementors are getting restless and it's getting more difficult to contain them."

Percy paused just beyond the open office door. _Potter?_

"Escaping from justice is getting to be a nasty habit of Mr. Potter's," Umbridge said coldly. "We shall have to find another way to make sure justice is served. And the girl? What of her location?"

"She's still missing as well. I checked that ridiculous, ramshackle pigsty they call a home out in Devon and no one's been there in some time. I imagine that wherever Potter went, the girl is there, too. Her muggle-loving father is still showing up to work every day, however," the Auror drawled.

Percy saw a Ministry clerk coming down the hallway, and hurriedly walked away from Umbridge's door. He frowned in thought as he entered his office, gathering his cloak and papers slowly. He wasn't positive the Auror had been speaking of the Burrow. _But who else could it be? And if they were talking about the Burrow, why were they looking for Ginevra?_

Percy was worried about his sister; especially with her fascination with Potter, and his estranged family's continued fraternization with him. The boy was trouble, and after the events of the Tournament, it was obvious he was headed down a dark path. _The Aurors must be seeking information regarding Potter's whereabouts and think that perhaps my sister would know where he is. I really should warn her to stay away from him. He will only bring her more trouble._

Setting his mind on writing a letter to his sister, Percy shut and locked his door and left the Ministry to head to his small, quiet flat in London.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_August 18, 1995_

_**An Exclusive Interview with Dolores Umbridge:**_

_**Senior Undersecretary Speaks Out on Hogwarts, Potter, and Reform**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Madam Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge agreed to sit down and speak with _The DailyProphet _recently, to share her thoughts on the recent troubles in the Wizarding world. Senior Undersecretary Umbridge is a high-ranking Ministry employee, who works tirelessly alongside our esteemed Minister Fudge to maintain the peace and prosperity of our Wizarding heritage._

_Undersecretary Umbridge is a distinguished woman, from a long line of fine witches and wizards. Her efforts at promoting a more stable Wizarding world are shown in her many legislative efforts intent on removing those frightful thorns that might worsen the prosperous atmosphere we now enjoy._

"_There has been an influx in our society of dangerous elements, those that disrupt our orderly way of life, and I have been working for many years to remove that element from our society," said Undersecretary Umbridge. "Too many dangerous half-breeds and those persons with questionable and unruly behavior have been allowed to act without regard to Ministry laws. They have even made their way into positions of authority. For instance, a werewolf was allowed to teach at Hogwarts. This is a shocking and appalling misuse of influence that has been all too prevalent in our teaching system. Students were attacked by a girl who was tainted by her obsession with Slytherin's dark secrets just a few years ago. Yet she was never held accountable for her actions."_

_When asked about Harry Potter, Undersecretary Umbridge had this to say: _

"_Harry Potter has long been a person of dark associations. His performance at Hogwarts is substandard, yet he is allowed to continue without any sort of reprimands for his behavior. This past year shows what can happen when we let these dark elements loose and do not control them. It is obvious to me that Mr. Potter has a fascination and connection with dark magic, and it led to the death of that poor student a few months ago."_

_Madam Umbridge continued:_

"_Mr. Potter's culpability in the death of Cedric Diggory has yet to be proven in our courts, but it is fairly evident that he must answer for his actions. Not to mention the previous years where not only another person died, but his godfather, convicted murderer Sirius Black, escaped from Ministry officials. It is obvious he aided Black somehow, perhaps in an effort to learn more about the dark magic used by Black's former master."_

_We asked Madam Umbridge what we as Wizarding citizens can do to aid the Ministry in having a more orderly and pleasant society._

"_It is the responsibility of all witches and wizards to come forward with any information they might have regarding dangerous individuals. We at the Ministry welcome those that help us maintain a stable and safe environment for all upright and worthwhile members of Wizarding society," Madam Umbridge said._

_With all that has happened recently, we hope that our Ministry of Magic can continue to keep those individuals in check that bring down our fine society. If you have information regarding persons of a questionable nature, please owl Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge._

_See tomorrow's _Daily Prophet_ for another in-depth interview, when we sit down and talk with Cho Chang, the bereaved girlfriend of Cedric Diggory._

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_August 23, 1995_

_Ministry of Magic_

Justin Finch-Fletchley looked around in awe at the massive atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He swung his head from side to side, trying to take it all in. Witches and wizards moved everywhere, flooing in and out, bustling around importantly while the buzz of conversation echoed in the large room.

He wandered slowly over to a wizard that sat on the left side of the grand hall behind a security desk. The badly shaved wizard put down his _Daily Prophet_ and waved him closer.

"I'm here to see Madam Umbridge," Justin said nervously.

"Wand," the guard grunted.

Justin watched as his wand was put into a strange looking scale, which spit out a narrow strip of parchment. After confirming the specifics and history of his wand, Justin took it back as the guard impaled the strip of paper on a small brass spike.

When the guard merely went back to his reading, Justin cleared his throat.

"Er… where do I go to see the Senior Undersecretary?" he asked when the guard looked up impatiently.

He pointed off down the hall, towards a set of golden gates.

"Go through them gates, and then take the lift to Level One. See the receptionist there."

Justin nodded, and set off to rejoin the throngs of people heading into the lifts. He entered one, and stood anxiously as each floor went by. When the voice announced his floor, he hurried off and approached a bored young witch sitting behind a desk marked "Reception".

"Erm… excuse me. I'm here to see Madam Umbridge?"

The receptionist merely looked up and tapped her wand on a small bell on her desk. Oddly, the bell made no sound. Justin stepped back once the witch went back to charming her nails different colors, and he stood there, shuffling his feet. He'd contemplated and worried about doing this for days before contacting Madam Umbridge, but now that he was here he was unsure of what exactly he had to offer.

"Mr. Finch-Fletchley, I assume?"

Justin turned and saw a short, squat woman standing behind him. Her pink dress and the small bow in her hair looked out of sorts with her large bulging eyes and rotund figure; and her high, girlish voice jarred Justin's hearing a bit. He shook his curly head and stepped forward to shake her hand.

"Come with me, young man. I understand you have some important information for us?" Umbridge said.

"Er… I mean, yes. Yes I do. I don't know how much you're aware of what happened a few years ago, but I was attacked in my second year and spent nearly six months petrified. I, er… wanted to talk to someone about what happened to me, and I read in the _Daily Prophet_ that you were looking for people to step forward with information," Justin said as he followed Umbridge down a long hallway.

She ushered him into her office, closing and silencing the door behind them. Umbridge took a seat behind the large desk that sat along one wall, and Justin stood nervously in front of it until she offered him a small wooden chair nearby.

"Very well, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. I am most interested in what you have to say about this awful attack you suffered. Please – tell me anything you can about what happened that year," Umbridge said.

Justin took in her sickly sweet smile and the way her jowls wobbled as she spoke. She wasn't what he was expecting, but Cedric's face flashed through his mind, and he sat up straighter in his chair. Taking a deep breath, he began the story of his second year at Hogwarts.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

_August 31, 1995_

_Grimmauld Place_

Harry cupped his hands under the faucet, letting the water flow over and swirl around the sink until his fingers felt numb from the cold. He leaned down and splashed it against his face, gasping from the sudden chill against his sweaty skin. He splashed another handful over his head, wetting his hair until it lay flat and the water ran down his bare chest and back.

Bracing his hands against the sink's edge, he looked up at the mirror. He was exhausted. Weeks of dreams and nightmares were starting to take a toll on him, leaving dark circles under his eyes and lines of exhaustion around his mouth. Sighing, Harry looked away and turned off the tap, using a hand towel to roughly dry his face and hair.

Tossing the towel over the sink, he grabbed his tank top and pulled it back on, padding barefoot out of the loo. He hadn't bothered with a dressing gown or slippers after waking from his dream, shaking and clutching his aching scar. Harry stared at his bedroom door for a moment, wondering if he should try and go back to sleep. It was only 2:30 and a long night stretched ahead of him before they needed to get up for their trip to Hogwarts. As tired as he was, though, Harry knew he wouldn't get back to sleep that night.

He stepped lightly down the staircase and headed for the dark kitchen. Mrs. Weasley usually left sandwich fixings in the cupboard, and he rubbed his stomach and yawned widely, looking forward to a late night snack.

_Maybe there's still some of that leftover roast meat from dinner_, he thought. Harry shoved the door to the kitchen open only to stop and stare as the flickering light of a candle shone on a head of flaming red hair.

Ginny sat at the table, her hands wrapped around an immense roast beef sandwich, her eyes closed as she chewed slowly. Evidently her mum's roast made an excellent snack.

"There'd better be some of that left for me, Gin."

Her shoulders jerked when he startled her, and Ginny glared up at him as she coughed around an especially large bite. Chewing and swallowing quickly, she nodded her head at a plate with another large sandwich next to her.

"Damn it, Harry, you nearly made me choke on that," Ginny grumbled. "I shouldn't let you have that other sandwich if you're going to be a git."

Grinning tiredly, Harry slumped into the seat next to her, sighing in pleasure as he took his first bite of the sandwich. They sat in silence, enjoying their snack, listening to the crackle of burning wood in the hearth. Ginny finished before he did, leaning back in her chair with a pleased sigh. _Weasleys and their food_, Harry thought fondly.

"What are you grinning at, Potter?"

"You," Harry said, turning his head to look at her. "Where do you put all that food, anyway?"

"Hmph. I'm a growing girl, you know," Ginny said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. The strands of bright red caught his eye, and he watched as they swung against the back of the chair, releasing the scent of wildflowers.

"Growing girl?" he asked, his voice disbelieving. "When was the last time you got any taller? Your second year at Hogwarts?"

Ginny backhanded his shoulder roughly and scowled at him, but Harry only chuckled as he clutched his arm. _Damn she's strong for being so small._

"I'll have you know that I gained a quarter of an inch in height just last summer."

"Mmmmhm. A whole quarter inch, you say. Wow… that's really impressive, Gin. Truly. I didn't even know people could measure their heights in such small increments," Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh shut it, you prat."

Harry grinned as she sat there, arms crossed, her lips pursed in annoyance. He chewed the last bite of his sandwich, and pulled the bottom of his tank top up to wipe his mouth off, then patted his stomach happily. Resting his elbows on the table, he laid his head in one hand, idly rubbing his scar with his fingers. Harry closed his eyes and saw the corridor again. _Stupid bloody locked door…_

"Bad dream?" Ginny asked quietly.

Harry sighed and ran his hands through his hair, clenching his fingers against his scalp and gathering his thoughts for a few moments as she waited patiently. That was one of the best things about Ginny, he'd learned. She always gave him time to think about what he wanted to say, and she never pushed him. Not about the dreams. _Although, she's plenty pushy in other ways_, he thought fondly, remembering just the other day when she'd taken him down a few notches after he'd said something particularly snarky to her.

They'd spent a lot of time over the last month in these late night conversations. Both of them had problems with dreams and nightmares waking them, and several times a week they'd meet up in the kitchen. Sometimes Sirius would be there as well, and he'd regale them with amusing stories about Harry's parents. But usually it was just the two of them, and they'd eventually start discussing what brought them half-asleep and dragging their feet into the kitchen in the first place.

"Odd dream," he said finally, leaning back in his chair and resting his folded hands on the top of his head. "It was… really bizarre. I saw your mum crying… sobbing, really. Standing over Kreacher's dead body. And Ron and Hermione were there watching her, wearing crowns of all things."

"Crowns? That is bizarre," Ginny said.

"Very bizarre. Ron's even had little jewels in it. But then..." Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably, bringing his arms down and folding them against chest. He swallowed hard, and cleared his throat. "Then my… my parents were there. They kept showing up, kind of cloudy or wispy. But they never said anything. They didn't speak to me. They just… stood there."

Ginny didn't speak, but she laid a comforting hand on his arm and the warmth burned into his skin.

"Anyway, what woke me up was that damned corridor again. The other dream sort of melted away and I was back there, walking towards the door at the end. Only the door is locked. But I _know_ that I need to get through that door," Harry said. "The damn thing is driving me mad."

"And your scar?" Ginny asked.

"Bloody annoyance," Harry grunted. "Every time I get to the door, I wake up with the damn thing burning."

Silence fell over the kitchen as they both sat there, thinking. Harry suddenly felt a soft flutter against his bicep, and he looked over to see Ginny staring off into space, a little crinkle in her forehead. She was apparently lost in thought, but her thumb had started to move against his arm, slowly tracing back and forth. It felt… nice.

A little too nice, actually. It brought back memories of a morning last week where he ran into Ginny on his way into the loo. She was walking out as he was walking in and they'd collided in the doorway. Her hair hung loose and damp around her face, and she'd only been wearing a dressing gown on her way back to her bedroom after her shower. Harry had brought his hands up to her shoulders to steady her, and when he'd looked down to see if she was okay he'd nearly swallowed his tongue at the view.

Ginny had laughed and patted his arm in thanks, before shuffling off to her room. Harry had scuttled into the loo, slamming the door and locking it. He'd quickly undressed and climbed into the shower, turning the water hotter until it steamed in the small room.

Harry remembered that shower vividly now. The scent of her shampoo had been heavy in the humid air, and he'd breathed in the smell of wildflowers. He hadn't lasted long. The bare skin he'd seen down her loose dressing gown swam through his mind, and the pounding water of the showerhead swallowed up his groans as he spilled in his hand.

Shuffling his bum in the chair, Harry cleared his throat to get Ginny's attention. He needed to stop thinking about that glimpse he'd seen of just how much Ginny Weasley had grown up, or he was going to embarrass himself right here in front of her.

"Do you think maybe… the corridor and the locked door and everything are connected to Tom, somehow? You said your scar hurt every time you had that dream, and the only time it hurts is when he's around," Ginny finally said.

Shifting mental gears, Harry shook his head slowly as he thought about the connection.

"I don't know, Gin," Harry said. "What would Voldemort want with a ruddy locked door in some corridor somewhere. I mean… I can't even tell where it is, or even if it's real. I just wish I could get through the damn thing. Maybe I'd get some sleep if I could just open the door."

Sighing deeply, Ginny patted his arm and stood up. Harry watched her gather up the kettle and some cups as she started a pot of tea. He was about to ask what dream woke her that evening when the kitchen door swung open and Sirius stumbled in, his face haggard as he lifted a shaky hand to swipe at his long hair.

"Well, well… my fellow insomniacs are here again," Sirius growled out. "Don't you two have to be up in a few hours to go off to Hoggy Warty Hogwarts? What are you doing up at this Merlin be damned hour?"

Harry shared a quick glance with Ginny before she turned back to the stove to grab another cup, and he shrugged at his godfather.

"Just couldn't sleep, I guess," Harry said.

"Well… since none of us can sleep, why don't I tell you about the first time we ever pranked Snivellus. It'll give you something funny to think about when you have to see the greasy git in class."

Harry laughed and sipped at his tea, letting Sirius' gravely voice shove away all thoughts of his nightmares for a few more hours.


	3. Chapter 2: Apprehension

_**Disclaimer:**__ This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling. It is intended for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended._

_**A/N:**__ Alright, here's where it gets a little darker. Many, many thanks to E and M for being my Beta Queens._

**Chapter 2: Apprehension**

_September 1, 1995_

_King's Cross Station_

The crowds at King's Cross station moved in their usual hectic manner for a Friday mid-morning. Most were busy checking their tickets and trying to get to their trains on time. Therefore, none of the busy travelers noticed a small group of oddly dressed people walking briskly across the platforms, heading towards the pillars that separated platforms 9 and 10. The man leading the small group stumped along with an odd gait, and his head roamed ceaselessly, as if looking for the shadows to jump out and attack him.

"Hurry up, Potter! We need to get you and the girl safely on the train," growled Moody.

"The girl has a name, Mad-Eye. You should learn to use it," said Harry, who tried to walk faster without looking like he was rushing. Harry Potter looked over his left shoulder to the red-headed girl in question. He rolled his eyes at her and grinned as she smirked back at him.

Ginny flipped her long hair back over her shoulder after exchanging amused glances with Harry, and turned her attention to the young woman who walked beside her.

"Tonks, what's wrong with you this morning? You're acting as paranoid as Moody up there," said Ginny.

"I don't know, Ginny. There's just something…" Tonks trailed off uncertainly, her shaggy pink hair whipping around her head as she turned it quickly towards the side. There was nothing out of the ordinary, however, so she turned her attention back to the 14-year-old girl next to her. "You and Harry really need to keep your heads down this year, Ginny. There's been whispering going on that even I've heard in the halls. And with the stories that came out this summer--"

Harry cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "We know, Tonks. We know! But it's not like Ginny and I go looking for trouble. Trouble just seems to want to find us."

"And those stories are utter rubbish. If I ever get my hands on that cow Skeeter, she'll wish she'd never learned how to read and write," grumbled Ginny under her breath. Harry's weary chuckle made her aware, however, that at least one person had heard her comments.

Ginny glanced behind their small group, to see if the rest of her family had made it to the station yet. She and Harry had been escorted ahead of the others by Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody, apparating them side-along, right into an abandoned ticket counter at King's Cross. Her brothers and Hermione would be brought to the station by her parents and several other members of the Order.

"Any sign of the rest of them?" whispered Harry, his breath sending a chill down her neck. She hadn't realized he had gotten so close to her, but when she looked forward again, she saw Moody and Tonks huddling them into a smaller unit as they drew close to the pillars that would take them to the Hogwarts Express.

"No, but they would have had to drive through London traffic, so I imagine they'll be along shortly. Personally, I'm just hoping Fred and George don't sabotage our trunks before they get them on the train for us." They shared a wry grin at the thought, both knowing they would have to approach their school trunks with caution once they were onboard the Express. The twins offering to escort their belongings didn't bode well for their immediate future. They were both just glad to at least have their wands on them, Moody having insisted upon it after a lecture on 'constant vigilance' and proper wand safety.

"Harry… do you have a… a bad feeling about this year?" Ginny bit her bottom lip as she cast her eyes up at Harry. Her nightmares had only gotten worse during her summer at Order Headquarters, and she knew Harry had been having them, too. They had spent many late nights sitting in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, sharing a quiet cup of tea, or occasionally listening to Sirius tell stories of the Marauder's time at Hogwarts. But the joviality of those conversations was interspersed with shared grim glances between the two, and a pall had settled over Headquarters in the last few weeks they spent there. Neither teen had any misgivings that the war with Voldemort had begun again, regardless of what the rest of the Wizarding world believed.

Ginny felt a weight come across her shoulders as Harry slung his arm around her and sighed heavily. She glanced up at him again and saw his face draw into a scowl, and she knew he was remembering their conversation from the night before. He'd shown up in the kitchen in the middle of the night, and told her of his disturbing dreams. Scenes of his parents never speaking to him, and her mother sobbing over Kreacher's dead body. But the visions of a long corridor that ended in a locked door were what woke him and drove him down to the dark of the kitchen, lit only by the fire she'd started in the hearth, and a few scattered candles.

She'd only been up a half hour herself, after having another nightmare involving Voldemort using her to get to her family and Harry. She knew Tom's influence had ended with the destruction of the diary, but the events at the end of the previous year brought her carefully buried worst fears to the forefront of her thoughts.

"I don't know Gin," Harry said. "All I know is that since he came back, the dreams have gotten worse. And that corridor… it was maddening. All we can do is keep our guard up and hope Dumbledore has some ideas. Although, I'm not taking any shite from Malferret this year. If he starts up with those comments of his again, I'll blast his–"

"Quit yer chatter you two, we're here," Moody interrupted. Ginny looked up and saw they were standing right next to the entrance to Platform nine and three-quarters.

"Alright, Tonks, you go through first. Make sure it's secure and I'll send Weasley through after 2 minutes. If it ain't secure, you come back through the gateway immediately and we'll get out of here. Potter will follow her and I'll secure the back end. Got it?"

After getting their agreement, Moody shoved Harry and Ginny close together, ready to move away at a moments notice. Tonks leaned against the pillar and casually slipped through the gateway. Ginny could feel Harry tense beside her, his hand in his pocket clenched around his wand. Her own wand was secured to her left forearm underneath her shirtsleeve in the wand holster that Bill had given her for her birthday that year. She was suddenly glad it was so close at hand, given the increased wariness Moody was instilling in both of them. The tense atmosphere made her palms itch, and she rubbed her hands together as she waited.

The minutes ticked down slowly, but eventually Moody gave a short jab at her with his finger and pointed towards the pillar. Ginny walked over to the entrance, and looking around for any Muggles who might notice, slid right through the pillar.

"C'mon Ginny, Harry and Mad-Eye should be right behind you," said Tonks, and indeed Harry passed through just moments later with Moody following right behind. Ginny glanced around the platform, but she didn't see any signs of danger. There were no black-robed Death Eaters waiting to attack them, no white masks glinting in the sunlight. Just the scarlet robes of a few Aurors towards one end of the train, and those few parents and students that had arrived that early. At 10:15, Ginny had the random thought that it might have been the earliest a Weasley had ever made it to the train station.

"Tonks, go secure a cabin on the train and I'll wait here with these two. When you find one, wave out the window and I'll bring them in." Tonks nodded at Moody's command, and with a cheeky grin to Ginny, she walked quickly towards one of the train doors, disappearing from view in a swirl of bright clothes and combat boots.

"Mad-Eye, what's with the Auror presence?" Harry asked quietly. Ginny saw him looking down towards the end of the train where four Aurors stood watching the students board. Harry's eyes looked troubled behind his glasses and she reached inside her sleeve to reassure herself that her wand was secure.

"Don't know, Potter. But it worries me, that's for sure. Might mean we have a problem on the way. Keep your wands close, both of you," Moody grumbled towards them, as he removed the hat that had obscured his eye from the Muggles. It rolled ceaselessly in its socket, making Ginny queasy as she watched it. She glanced back towards the train just as Tonks' brightly colored head came into view in one of the windows. Tonks waved at them then ducked back in, and Moody shoved them forward making Ginny stumble against Harry's side.

"Sorry 'bout that," she said, as Harry grabbed her upper arm to help her keep her balance. His hand felt overly warm through her shirt, and she caught her breath as a tingling heat rose up in her stomach. Shoving her feelings back down ruthlessly, she scolded herself for responding to him so easily. _Stop it, Ginevra, he's just a friend. He's __**just**__ your friend._

Repeating the mantra she had perfected that summer, she nodded her head at Harry when he asked if she was okay. They arrived at the stairs leading up into the train without further incident and Harry's hand slipped down to her lower back as she climbed on. Ginny hurried up the steps, and away from the all-too-welcome warmth of his skin against her back. She turned left at the top and headed down the train corridor towards the cabin that Tonks had found for them.

Seeing Tonks' pink head peeping out at them from the first cabin, Ginny walked straight in, laughing slightly as Tonks stumbled over the threshold of the door as Ginny passed her by. Harry followed right after, while Moody stood in the corridor with his wand out, watching both entrances to the train car with his roving eye.

"Right then. Tonks, have you secured the rest of this car?"

Tonks rolled her eyes at Ginny, but responded in a serious voice to the grizzled former Auror, "Yes, Moody, there's no sign of any death eaters, invisibility cloaks, disillusionment charms, or any other hidden wards. The car is clean."

"Good. Potter, Weasley, you're to stay put. Don't move from this cabin. Tonks you stay here outside their door, and I'll patrol the platform outside. You hear or see the slightest hint of a scuffle and you get these kids out of here. Constant vigilance!" Moody growled the last right at Tonks, but Ginny had had enough of the paranoia.

"Listen, Moody, why can't Tonks wait outside on the Muggle side of the Platform, to make sure my parents and brothers get through okay? She's secured the cabin, and nothing is going to get in past her that way," Ginny asked.

Mad-Eye Moody looked like he was going to argue with her, but Harry stepped in first.

"She's right, Mad-Eye. Tonks can help guard the Muggle side. Ginny and I can watch ourselves just fine with you two out there preventing anyone from coming through the barrier. We'll stay put in our cabin just like you told us." Harry's last sentence was laced through with a bitter undertone. She knew he hated these security procedures as much as she did, but they both went along with them. After the reports of various disappearances over the summer and Sturgis Podmore being arrested and sent to Azkaban, Ginny knew as well as Harry did that the Death Eaters were starting to act. The last thing she wanted was to be attacked before they could get to the safety of Hogwarts.

Moody glared at them with both eyes, and Ginny attempted to look competent and wary under his steel gaze. Finally he grunted out a quick, "Fine! But keep yer wands out!" then stumped off the train and made his way to the platform. They could see him standing a few feet from the train door, his gray head turning back and forth, watching the scores of students that were beginning to pour through the barrier towards the train.

"Well! Guess that's my cue, you two," Tonks grinned as she looked at them. "I promise to send your brothers and Hermione this way as soon as they get here. 'Course with the way those twins are, who knows when that will be."

Ginny smiled as Tonks finally left the cabin, closing the door behind her. She sank down into the seat with a sigh, feeling some of the tension dissipate that had followed them like a shadow since they left Grimmauld Place. She looked up and saw Harry staring out the cabin window, and watched his face crease into a wry grin just as she heard a muffled thump and a curse come from outside.

"Tonks tripped, didn't she?" Ginny asked.

Harry turned his smiling face her way, and she sighed as she saw how the laughter from Tonks eased the worry lines that had begun to etch their way around his eyes and mouth over the course of the long summer. Ever since the ritual that brought Tom back, Harry had begun to brood and worry even more than usual. And that was substantial considering everything they'd both gone through the last three years. But Cedric's death haunted Harry in a way Ginny hadn't seen before, and she was concerned for her friend.

_He's just a friend, damn it. Stop staring at his mouth._

"You know, Gin, your wand's not out," Harry answered her instead, as he finally took the seat across from her.

"Neither is yours, Potter," Ginny snarked back, hoping to keep his mood lighter than it had been.

He chuckled at her, and then leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. Ginny could see the bruising around them that bespoke of their many sleepless nights over the past month. She glanced at her watch, then looked back to see Harry's tired figure slouching even further into the cushions.

"Why don't you try and take a short nap, Harry? It's only half past 10, and Merlin knows the rest of my family won't show up until the last minute," Ginny suggested quietly. She hoped he'd take the 20 minutes or so they would have before they were bombarded by the twins' loud entrance and her mum's hugs and stern warnings.

The door to their cabin slamming open interrupted his answer.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Moody could feel the vibration of the many feet hurrying across the platform through his wooden leg, as he swiveled his eye around to watch through the cabin wall, seeing Potter and Weasley still there. He watched Tonks close the cabin door and trip down the steps, as his good eye roved back and forth watching the swarms of kids and parents grow thicker. It was a security nightmare. Any one of them could be a polyjuiced death eater in disguise.

Tonks finally made her way to where he stood a few feet from the train door. "They're all set, Moody. I'll bring the Weasleys through when Remus and Emmeline finally get them here."

He grunted back at her, his eye now catching a swish of robes from the end of the train.

"What's with the Auror detail? Dumbledore didn't say anything about Fudge providing any security," Moody asked, as he watched the four Aurors board the train in pairs. He recognized Robards from his time in the Auror ranks, and knew him to be a decent Auror and a good wizard.

"I dunno, really. Maybe Scrimgeour ordered it at the last minute. I heard him talking to Dawlish yesterday about securing something. I guess he meant the train," Tonks answered, squinting down the platform to watch the last Auror's long ponytail disappear up the stairs. "That last one was Williamson, and if Dawlish is here, his partner Proudfoot will be, too"

"Hm. I saw Robards before they got on. He'll catch anything that you didn't find, at least."

Tonk's hair flashed to green momentarily, as she scowled at him. "Gee, thanks Moody. I'm off to the entrance."

Moody's eye kept up with Tonks until she disappeared through the barrier. It was too bad the wards protecting the Muggle side obscured his eye – he would have preferred them both to be near the train.

He felt a small body rocket into his side, and his wand was at a throat before he even finished turning his head. Moody bit off a reductor curse at the last second, scowling down at a small blonde boy with a camera around his neck.

"Oh! Professor Moody, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you and Dennis said he saw Harry Potter in a cabin over here and I thought I could get his picture–"

"What's yer name, boy!" Moody thundered as he poked his wand at the camera, looking to see if it had been hexed to attack him. He waved an intricate series of revealing charms over the boy's head to check for glamours, and then looked down to see the blonde gaping up at him.

"Go on now, whatever your name is. Get on the train, and don't be bothering Potter," he said, dismissing the boy, but he kept one eye on him, watching him return to a cabin several cars down the train.

The chatter and loud goodbyes of weepy-eyed parents surrounding him did nothing for his rapidly souring mood. Moody had been feeling jittery in his stump of a leg all day, and he knew that scent of danger on the air. He turned his eye back towards the kids' cabin, and his blood ran cold. The cabin was empty.

Jolting around, Moody started towards the train in a surprisingly fast hobble, but a scarlet-robed Auror sauntered down the steps and stopped him, pointing not a wand, but a rolled parchment at his chest.

"Mad-Eye, I presume? I'm Auror Dawlish. Here is an arrest warrant for Harry James Potter and Ginevra Molly Weasley. Be sure the girl's parents get this. As for Potter, well… give it to Dumbledore," Dawlish said, and before Moody could react, the Auror stepped back, mumbled "portus" and was gone.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Albus Dumbledore walked slowly along the platform at Hogsmeade, checking the wards he had placed one last time before heading back to the castle to finish the final preparations before the students' arrival. He was looking forward to that evening, and not just to see his students return to the school that always seemed too quiet and empty during the summer months. Albus knew he would feel a lot more secure when young Ginevra and especially Harry were behind the stone walls of his school.

Not since the dark days before Voldemort's defeat almost 14 years previously had he felt such worry and near terror. Albus kept his face as serene as possible when speaking to the Order and Harry this summer, but behind that façade, he was beyond worried. Voldemort's return at the end of last term, coupled with the increasing hostilities between himself and the Ministry would lead to a very rough year for the young man he felt so much fondness for. And the intrusion of Dolores Umbridge as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would antagonize Harry and his friends. He made a note to himself to warn Minerva and have her pass on the message to the four young teens.

_And perhaps Misters Fred and George Weasley as well, though that might be like waving a red flag in front of the boisterous pair, _he chuckled to himself.

Albus looked forward to the clash between the Weasley twins and Madam Umbridge.

As he continued with that pleasant thought, he turned his head at the sight of a ghostly white eagle patronus winging its way towards him. "Alastor," he gasped, and froze as it delivered its message in Moody's grizzled voice.

"Albus, the kids have been taken. Get to King's Cross now."

With a swirl of purple velvet and an almost silent pop, Albus Apparated straight to the abandoned ticket counter at Platform Seven that he'd secured for Nymphadora and Alastor earlier that morning. Dumbledore waved his wand, and his robes became a violet summer suit and dress shoes, complete with a gray striped tie and lapel pin. His disguise complete, he strode quickly towards the entrance to the Hogwarts Express, heedless of the stares his waist-length beard received.

Arriving shortly at the hidden entrance, Albus waved his wand discretely, weaving a Notice-Me-Not charm around himself. There was no need to announce his arrival to the entire Hogwarts student population that he was sure lay waiting on the other side. Stepping through, he immediately caught sight of Alastor and Tonks standing in the shadows nearby. With a flick of his wrist and two steps, he drew close enough to speak softly and dispelled the charm for just those two.

"Alastor, what happened?"

Without a word, Moody handed over a scroll of parchment bearing the Ministry seal. Tonks looked beyond worried, and Alastor bore an unusual mask of guilt mixed with anger.

"They were taken in a matter of seconds, Albus. Seconds!" Moody gritted out through his teeth, one eye on the Headmaster as the other watched the platform around them. "That idiot Fudge is behind this, but I'll bet I know who's pulling his puppet strings."

Listening to Alastor mutter about slimy Death Eaters paying their way out of Azkaban, Albus quickly broke the seal and his heart plummeted as he read the contents. Just as he reached the end of the parchment and looked up to ask Tonks what she had seen, the Weasleys arrived. Chaos was about to erupt, and with only minutes until the Express left, there was no time for explanations. He had to act quickly.

"Nymphadora, please help Remus get the children on the train, as quickly and quietly as you can. Do not tell them what has happened, just inform them that Harry and Ginevra have been detained and they will find out more when they arrive at Hogwarts this evening. Keep watch until the train departs, then you and Remus come straight back to Headquarters. Alastor, come with me, please," Albus said, and he was heartened to see the young Auror head straight to the group, corralling the students and getting them headed towards the train with the help of Remus Lupin.

Albus and Moody walked the short steps to where Molly and Arthur Weasley were waving their children off, and as he drew close, he heard the Weasley matriarch start asking about her daughter and Harry. Albus knew he had to get them away and quickly. Flicking his wrist to include the couple and their escort, Emmeline Vance, in the removal of the charm, Dumbledore garnered their attention immediately.

"Albus! Oh, goodness you scared me. But what on earth are you doing here? And Alastor – what cabin are Ginny and Harry in? I wanted to say goodbye before they left," Molly rambled, her attention diverted once more towards the train that was blasting the last whistle call before leaving the station.

"Molly and Arthur, Alastor has just informed me of a situation that has occurred regarding Harry and your daughter." Albus held up his hand at Molly's alarmed look and hoped he could convince the protective mother of the need to leave before she exploded. For he knew it was only a matter of moments before they began to draw a lot more attention if she found out the truth here in the open. "Molly, please, this conversation must take place in a secure location. Go back to Headquarters and Alastor and I shall follow immediately after."

Molly's face flushed a bright red and Arthur laid a steadying hand on her shoulders. Albus looked to Arthur and tried to convince him without words that it was vitally important not to cause a scene in their current location. With a sigh, Arthur rubbed his palm over his balding head and took his wife by the hand.

"Very well, Albus, but we will have some answers about what is going on just as soon as you get there. I have your agreement on that?" Albus was impressed as usual by the elder Weasley's steady look and quiet strength. Many in the Ministry passed over Arthur Weasley as a ridiculous, Muggle-loving fool, he knew. But they underestimated him to their own detriment – Arthur was not a man to be trifled with, especially concerning his family. And Albus knew without a doubt, that the Weasleys considered Harry to be one of their own.

"You have my promise, Arthur," Dumbledore assured the man. Arthur acknowledged him with a sharp nod, and led his still fuming wife towards the exit. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and turned towards the remaining two Order members.

"Miss Vance, would you kindly wait for Remus and Nymphadora, and once the train has departed, the three of you return straight back to Headquarters. Oh, and would you make certain that Harry and Ginevra's luggage is retrieved from the other students and brought back with you?"

"Of course, Headmaster," Emmeline replied, and the stately witch strode towards the train to wait for the other two.

"Alastor, please walk with me, we have much to discuss and little time to do it, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said. He glanced around to make sure they were not being followed or watched closely, and then headed for the exit with Moody at his side. Passing through to the Muggle concourse, Dumbledore walked briskly towards the abandoned ticket counter, where he raised several charms and privacy wards.

"Now, Alastor, tell me everything that occurred." As he listened to the ex-Auror speak, he grew more concerned. Cornelius was a rash man, and after the many unfortunate articles over the years, was sure to be swayed by the public opinion espoused in Rita Skeeter's reports. However, he was alarmed that the Minister seemed to be playing right into Voldemort's hands with this course of action. Albus was dismayed that he had not heard of this before it happened. There was no indication prior to that morning's events, and with his dismissal from the Wizengamot two years previously, it was obvious the rot was starting to spread ever wider in the Ministry.

Voices from nearby alerted Dumbledore to how long they had been there and he removed his spells just before the three other Order members arrived. Remus carried Harry's trunk and Emmeline and Tonks walked in just after with Ginny's.

"Albus, what is going on? Dora said that Harry and Ginny–"

Dumbledore interrupted Remus before he could continue, "Please Remus, head straight back to Headquarters and gather everyone that is currently there into the kitchen. I shall be there momentarily."

Lupin's scarred face looked thunderous, but he held his tongue and Apparated straight out, followed shortly by Tonks and Emmeline. Alastor shared a look with him, before apparating out as well.

His shoulders slumping downward, Dumbledore raised his wand and transfigured his clothes back into their original robes. He sent a quick patronus off to Minerva to inform her of his delayed return to Hogwarts, and then he steeled himself before apparating to the London street outside of Grimmauld Place. Between Sirius, Remus, and the Weasleys he would be hard pressed to keep them from storming the Ministry after he told them what had become of their children.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

The slow, steady dripping of the faucet was going to drive him mad, he just knew it. _And it's only been about 20 minutes_, Harry thought to himself, turning and striding back across the room.

He'd been tossed in this tiny room right after they were portkeyed in by the Aurors, and his groggy mind had cleared a bit since then. The room was small and dark; his pacing only allowing him four steps before he had to turn and walk the other way under the dim light of an old bulb that hung from the ceiling. The dripping, rusted sink was attached to a toilet that had definitely seen cleaner days, and he didn't even want to contemplate the mattress on the floor. It was covered in blood stains and what looked like weeks-old vomit.

Harry reached up and rubbed his forehead, wincing as his fingers ran over the cut that went up into his hairline. Gingerly tracing the wound, he realized it was a lot longer than he'd thought, nearly reaching down to his eyebrow. He brought his hand down and stared at his bloody fingertips. Anger surged through him again, and he clenched his fist and kept pacing.

_Stupid, Potter! You should have listened to Moody, _Harry berated himself. The Aurors had come out of nowhere, crimson robes fanning out to block the exit. He and Ginny hadn't even had time to yell for help or get their wands out before spells were flying at them. Within seconds they were subdued, their arms bound tightly behind their backs, and then the sickening feeling of a hook behind his navel and they were portkeyed away. It had taken less than a minute for he and Ginny to be overwhelmed and whisked off the train.

_Pathetic._

His fury washed over him again, and he stalked to the metal door and banged his fist on it. Harry had done this every five minutes since one of the Aurors had shoved him in here and slammed the door, Ginny's voice screaming his name as she was dragged away elsewhere.

_Those fucking bastards had better not lay a hand on her. _His chest heaved, and he raised both hands, slamming them as hard as he could against the door, the sound reverberating around the dank cell.

A small, barred window snapped open, startling him into taking a step back. He could see most of a man's face through the metal bars. He was older, with graying hair, and a face that held a few scars. But though his dark eyes were stern, there was no hint of the disturbing cruelty that he had witnessed from the man who'd cut open his forehead.

"Move away from the door and face the wall with your hands on your head. Move it, Potter," the man said.

Harry scowled, but did as was requested, backing up slowly to face the wall. The lock clicked open, and he could see two Aurors walk in with their wands raised, out of the corner of his eye. A softly spoken spell bound his wrists together, and another locked his arms in place. Harry felt the tip of a wand press hard into the back of his head, forcing it forward into the wall. The backs of his eyes stung in pain as his open cut pressed into the cold damp stone. But he clenched his jaw, determined not to show them it hurt.

"You make one wrong move, Potter, and I'll blast your skull wide open. Now, turn around and follow this nice man. I'll be right behind you." This was a voice he recognized. This was the man who'd cut him on the train, but had not followed them immediately with the portkey. This was the man with the cruel, disdainful eyes.

"Dawlish, ease up on the prisoner, and stop injuring him without provocation. Unless he makes a move, you don't need to harm him. Just follow the regulations and get him processed like any other prisoner," the stern-faced man said.

Dawlish snorted insolently, but backed up, pulling Harry's bound hands with him forcing him to step away from the wall. There was a streak of red on the stone from his cut, and the release of the pressure against it up caused it to open again, letting blood drip slowly down his face.

"Fine. But we all know what this piece of rubbish is capable of, Robards," Dawlish drawled.

Robards grunted, but didn't respond. Harry was facing him now, and he could see that this Robards fellow was an older Auror, most likely having served the Ministry for many years. As he turned around and walked out of the door, Harry followed, stumbling a little as Dawlish shoved him forward into the hallway. _It's time to get some damn answers._

"Why did you attack us on the train? Ginny and I didn't do anything wrong! What are we doing here?" Harry asked, trying to remain calm as his gut churned at not knowing why they'd been captured and imprisoned.

"The Ministry issued warrants for your arrest, as well as Miss Weasley," Robards responded.

_Arrest warrants? What the fuck is going on?!_

He was led down a long, dingy hallway with non-descript, gray metal doors on each side, most likely leading to rooms similar to the one he was held in. The door at the end of the hall was different, however, and as they approached it Harry saw it was painted red with tall, white letters. _Central processing?_

Robards stopped their small procession just before the red door. Turning around, Harry looked into his eyes and for a moment he thought he saw regret. Then a stern façade came down, and the Auror pointed his wand at Harry's chest.

"Harry James Potter, you are under arrest for murder. You will be processed in accordance with Ministry regulations and procedures, and held over until your trial. Your wand will be confiscated until your sentence is decided by the Wizengamot." The words were spoken by rote, as if Robards had said them a thousand times before. The shock of them sent his mind reeling. _Murder?_

"Wha… wh-who? Who did they say I murdered?" Harry gasped out.

"You are charged with the murder of Cedric Diggory."

_Cedric._

_No. Oh God, no._

Numb with shock, he barely was able to put one foot in front of the other as Robards tapped his wand on the red door and led Harry and Dawlish inside. The room held little; only a table with some boxes, several scrolls of parchment, and a pile of grey and white striped fabric. His eyes roved around the room, trying to find something to latch onto. Something that made sense. But there was nothing there. Only an endless well of nightmares and fear.

Dawlish marched him across the room, standing him behind a yellow line on the floor. He turned Harry around until he faced the table, then backed away and stood besides Robards. With a flick of his wand, a hazy film sprung up in front of Harry's face, stretching from wall to wall over the yellow line. Absently, Harry raised his hand and touched it, feeling a sharp stinging pain in his fingertips, like the shock of hot water on frozen skin.

"Prisoner, we are going to remove the binding spells. Once they are removed, we will begin your processing. Do not step beyond the yellow line. If you do, the pain of the ward will get worse the more you push. Do you understand?" Robards' voice sounded tinny, as if it came down a long tube. Harry stared blankly at the man, unable to understand what was happening. He only realized that they had cast a spell to release his bonds when his arms fell limply to his sides.

"Prisoner, remove your outer clothing and shoes, and leave them on the floor."

Harry dimly registered a voice speaking to him, as he was directed to strip to his boxers. He was given clothing that he put on without looking. His personal items were summoned, and then separated into the boxes on the table. And all the while Harry could hear only the pounding of his heart and Cedric's voice, agreeing to take the cup together – to share it – to make it a Hogwarts victory. The memory of that moment – when Cedric grinned at him and helped him limp over to the cup – was worse than anything Harry had experienced later that night in the graveyard.

A stinging hex to his shoulder woke him from his daze, and he looked up to see Dawlish standing just in front of him, his wand pointed at Harry's head. A glance behind the sneering Auror showed an empty room. Robards must have left at some point, but Harry couldn't remember when. The pounding in his chest had tapered off, leaving behind a dull emptiness that spread to his limbs, making them feel weak and too heavy to move.

"Look lively, Potter. I'm taking you to see your little _friend_," Dawlish sneered. He flicked his wand again, and the hazy ward disappeared. The way he emphasized the word 'friend' caught Harry's attention, and he scowled, feeling a spark of anger break through his lethargy.

Dawlish whispered a binding charm, and Harry felt his arms snap behind his back tightly. The wiry-haired Auror grabbed Harry's bicep and wrenched his shoulder forward roughly, drawing him along to a blue door set in the wall across from the red one. Pulling it open, Dawlish continued his fast pace, his longer stride causing Harry to have to trot to keep his shoulder from being dislocated.

They walked down a short hall, this one devoid of metal doors. It opened out into a room lined with cells, and Dawlish turned to the right, walking Harry past several empty ones before reaching the end. A large, dark skinned man was slouched over with his arms braced through the metal bars of the cell. He was staring intently at a small figure that was curled up on the cot, arms clutched tightly around drawn-up knees. A curtain of flaming red hair hung down, hiding her face.

"Ginny!" Harry called out hoarsely.

Ginny's head popped up, but Harry had only a moment to take in her tear-stained face before he was cuffed hard on the back of his head. His bound arms threw off his balance, and he stumbled into the bars of the cell. Before he could right himself, Dawlish snatched a handful of his hair and pulled him back upright. The stinging pull against his scalp made his eyes water and he hissed in pain.

"Not another word out of you, Potter!" Dawlish growled out. Harry met his eyes, throwing every ounce of contempt and hatred that he felt for the man into his gaze. Dawlish evidently understood what that look meant, for he chuckled lowly and tightened his grip.

"Proudfoot, open this cell so Potter here can rest up for his big day tomorrow," Dawlish said.

The large man named Proudfoot slowly straightened and backed away from Ginny's cell. The look in his eyes made Harry's stomach clench. He knew this was another man to be wary of.

Proudfoot tapped his wand on the lock and the cell door slid open with a clang. Before Harry could turn to walk in on his own, Dawlish shoved him forward with the hand still gripping his hair, sending him tripping over his own feet. He managed to land hard on his knees, and he knew he'd have large bruises from the hard stone floor by the next day.

The door closed behind him, and he heard a quiet mutter, releasing his bound arms. Harry rubbed his sore shoulders as he climbed slowly to his feet. He looked up and caught Ginny's eyes through the bars that separated their two cells. She looked terrified, and it was obvious that she was just barely holding herself together.

Ginny's gaze skittered momentarily past his shoulder, and Harry turned around to see Proudfoot and Dawlish standing just outside his cell. Dawlish had a smug look of superiority on his face, but Proudfoot was staring past him at Ginny. Harry scowled and backed up a few steps, sliding over to block her from the man's view.

Harry was about to say something that would surely get him hexed again, when another Auror walked into the cell room. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and Harry recognized him as the last of the four Aurors who had apprehended them on the train.

"Proudfoot! Robards wants a word with you. You too, Dawlish," the man said.

Proudfoot leaned his head to the side, and Harry repositioned himself, backing up until he felt the bars against his back. He could hear Ginny's rapid breathing behind him, and the lightest touch of her hand, barely brushing his shirt through the bars. Proudfoot merely grunted and turned to walk away. Dawlish stood there a moment longer before following behind him, stopping next to the long-haired Auror on his way out of the room.

"You better watch these two closely, Williamson. Don't let the little kids fool you. They're killers," Dawlish said, his voice harsh and louder than was needed to talk to someone standing right next to him. Harry knew that last sentence was meant for him and Ginny to hear.

"The prisoners are guilty when the Wizengamot says they're guilty, Dawlish. Until then, they have the same rights as any witch or wizard being held over for trial," Williamson responded calmly. The two Aurors stared at each other, before Dawlish broke the gaze and quickly walked out of the room.

Williamson came over to the front of Harry's cell, carrying a sack that he hadn't noticed earlier. The man beckoned Harry closer, but he hesitated a moment. While it seemed he was at least more reasonable than Dawlish, and far less creepy than Proudfoot, he still didn't trust the man. Williamson's eyes glanced over Harry's face, taking in the bloody cut and bruises. Without saying anything, he pushed the sack through the bars of the cell, dropping it on the floor. Then he nodded and walked back to the entrance to the room, taking up a position there with his wand held at his side.

When Harry realized that Auror Williamson was merely going to stand there on guard duty, he took the few steps over to the sack, kicking it gently with his foot to see if there was anything wrong with it. It felt okay, so Harry picked it up and returned to the other side of the cell. He finally got his first good look at Ginny since the train, and what he saw worried him greatly.

Her skin was nearly white, her freckles standing out in sharp relief against her tear-stained cheeks. The prison clothes she was wearing were obviously too large for her, hanging loosely off of her tiny body, and her arms were wrapped tightly around her chest as she stood next to the bars shivering. But her eyes…_ Oh Merlin, what did that bastard do to her?_

"Ginny? Are you… I mean, I know you're not okay, but… are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"I'm…" Ginny cleared her throat and swallowed hard as she tucked her hair behind her ear with one hand. "I'm okay. He… he didn't touch me."

Harry shoved all the feelings of horror and shock that he still carried after learning he was being held responsible for Cedric's death to the back of his mind. _I'll deal with it later_, he thought.

He stepped right up to the bars and reached through, holding out his hand. Ginny's shoulders jerked, but she unwrapped one arm from around her and slowly slid her hand into his. Harry gripped it lightly, but his throat tightened, and he didn't know what to say. Ginny's eyes held a lost look that he'd seen from her before, immediately after he rescued her from the Chamber. Harry had a feeling this was going to be a thousand times worse. There was no Fawkes here; no Sorting Hat with ready answers and a sword.

Now they were both lost.


End file.
